Bonding through Secrets
by late2bbparty
Summary: Booth and Parker discuss Booth's past. Follow to Agent in the X-rays but not really a sequel. Set in Season 11 and beyond. I don't own Bones.
1. Fathers and Sons

A/N: So this popped into my head while writing Agent in the X-rays. References some of the events in that story, but you don't really need to have read it first. Reviews and critiques appreciated.

The Friday after Thanksgiving Booth and Parker enjoyed a skate with Wendell at Beltway Ice. Turns at the guy who ran the rink was a big Temperance Brennan fan, so he'd agreed to let Booth bring Parker in exchange for an autographed copy of her latest book, which she was happy to provide. Father and son enjoyed both the ice skating and the time together. Parker loved his family, but was happy to get some time with just his dad too. Hopping in the car Parker asked, "Dad, you 'spose we could grab a burger someplace?"

Booth grinned, "You're hungry AGAIN?" Yesterday had been a tossup as to who could put away more, Parker or Aubrey.

"Yeah." he admitted sheepishly, but then began to protest, "But we just skated our butts off for an hour." He then pointed to the SUV clock which read 23:10, "and dinner was over 4 hours ago!"

His father shook his head teasing, "But your post dinner 'snack' was only two hours ago." He put air quotes around snack, Parker had downed an overstuffed turkey sandwich with all the fixings. Seeing his son attempting a pout he mock sighed, "Five Guys is still open. I think I have a couple of dry shirts in my bag in the back, do you want one?"

Parker nodded, so the two hopped out and went to the back of the vehicle where Booth rummaged through his gym bag and pulled out two clean t-shirts. He tossed one at his son then started to change. The parking lot was deserted and it was just easier to brave the cold for a few seconds rather than try to maneuver while sitting in the car. Parker did the same. Booth had just pulled the dry shirt over his head when his son exclaimed, "Dad, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"

Alarmed, he quickly pulled the shirt down and started looking around for whatever had freaked his kid out. But Parker was only staring at him, "What?"

"I thought you said THAT wasn't a big deal. " He pointed accusingly at his fathers abdomen.

Booth sighed. He'd been in a good mood and forgotten about his new souvenir. The scar was big, still pretty red, and definitely on the ugly side. Given his blood loss, the delay in medical treatment and his past history with anesthesia the medical team had opted to get him on and off the table as quickly as possible, so in his surgeon's words they hadn't 'prettied it up'. That was an option for later, but Booth couldn't see himself voluntarily going under the knife to fix it since it was just one of many 'warrior marks' as Bones called them. Seeing his son's glare he said quietly, "Come on, change your shirt and we'll talk."

Parker stared in disbelief. He was pissed. First off, no one had bothered to tell him when his dad had gone missing, Bones had opted to wait till Booth was in recovery to call and tell his son that his dad was going to be fine but had been shot. The next day his dad called to let him know he was okay but that his uncle was dead. Now he was finding out that the "scratch" his dad sustained was actually an angry looking incision that extend almost from navel to hip on his dad's right side. He wondered what else they hadn't bothered to tell him. He jerkily pulled his damp shirt off, put the new one on, snatched his sweatshirt and stomped to the passenger side of the SUV and slammed the door.

Booth closed the back of the SUV and walked slowly to the drivers side, praying for patience. In addition to being a teenager and all the mood swings that came with that gig, his son had inherited both his protectiveness and short fuse when it came to people screwing with his family. He had some explaining to do. Once in the car he turned to look at the teen who was staring angrily out the windshield and asked quietly, "Do you want to talk now or when we get there?"

"NOW" Parker practically spat the word. "You lied to me Dad!"

Booth took a deep breath, "Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again. Look when Bones called you, I was truly out of danger. And when I talked to you I didn't see the point in giving you all the details and scaring you. It was over, I was going to be fine."

"I'm not a little kid anymore. I've got armpit hair and everything Dad. " he was almost shouting.

Booth willed himself to remain calm and keep his voice even. "I know. But you are still only 15. I still want to protect you as much as I can from 3000 miles away. "

Parker snapped, "Well I'm here now. And I want to know the truth about what happened to you Dad. And Uncle Jared. EVERYTHING."

So Booth explained, Parker interrupting with questions occasionally. Booth answered as truthfully as he could. Oh, there were still some things that he omitted or glossed over. He didn't think Parker needed to know how if he hadn't found the silver nitrate there was a pretty strong chance that he bled to death or that Pete or Alex killed him. Or that he had been the one to incinerate Jared. Hell, he didn't want to think about those details, he certainly wasn't going burden his kid with them. When he was done they sat in silence for a minute or so, then he looked over at his son. He was still pissed off, Booth could tell.

"Bones should have called me earlier."

Booth snapped a little at that one. "Hey, you can be pissed at me, but she did NOTHING wrong. Think about it. It was the middle of the night for you, what was she supposed to tell you? Hey Parker, we have an unidentified body here at the lab, it might be your dad. Go back to sleep, I'll let you know. "

"She could have called me later," he said stubbornly.

"Right." Booth said sarcastically, "because later she could have told you, Parker, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that your uncle is dead, the bad news is we don't know where your dad is. Good luck on your chem test!"

The teen opened his mouth to argue again and then realized that put that way, his dad was right. Seeing the crack in the hostility Booth softened his voice, "Look Parker, she had her hands full trying to find me. And it's Bones. It wasn't rational to call. There wasn't anything you could have done to help, so the only thing telling you would have accomplished was to make you worry. She called you as soon as she had the facts. "

Parker seemed a little less angry now, so he asked, "Anything else you need to know?"

"Yeah. Why Dad? I mean, I hardly knew Uncle Jared, so I know you guys weren't tight. Why did you almost get yourself killed trying to bail him out?"

Booth exhaled loudly. "He was my brother. "

"I know THAT." Parker added with a sneer, "But it doesn't seem like he gave a damn about you. The last few years he wasn't speaking to you most of the time, he only saw me a couple of times when you were in Afghanistan, didn't come to your wedding, and I don't remember him helping out when you were thrown in jail."

"Hey, watch the tone." Booth said sharply. Then he took another deep breath, "Our relationship was complicated."

"And I'm not old enough to understand right?" The teen retorted bitterly.

"Tone, buddy. " He sighed, "And you're old enough now. I'll try to explain, but it's not easy for me to talk about, so you have to want to listen."

Parker stared. He really hadn't been expecting that. There was something odd in his dad's voice that made him hesitate. Finally he said, "Yea, I'll listen."

Booth had been hoping against hope that Parker would refuse the offer. Now he was stuck. He hadn't planned on having this conversation tonight, or this visit. He didn't know when he'd planned on having it. Maybe when Parker was in his thirties. The comment from Bones last month popped into his head, bonding through the sharing of secrets. Please God, don't let anthropology fail him now. He didn't want to imagine a world where his son didn't speak to him. Where to start? He tried to remember everything he'd told his son about his father - there wasn't much. What had Pops told him? Rebecca? Jared? Marianne? He realize he had no idea so, start with a level set. "Okay. What do you know about my parents?"

Parker shrugged. "Not much. Your mom got sick and left, your dad couldn't take care of you anymore, I don't know why, so you went to live with Pops and Grandma. Grandma died when you were in high school. Whatever your mom had, she got better, obviously, because I met her at your wedding although something's weird there because Atlantic City isn't that far away and you don't see her that often, and I've never met your step family. And your dad is dead, but I don't really know when that happened." He shook his head in disbelief as it just occurred to him how little he knew about his dad's family. "That really isn't much is it?"

"No. But you got the basics right. " Booth took a deep breath and started at the beginning. "I was four when Jared was born. From day one I was told to watch out for my little brother. My father was still in the army and gone a lot, so I was supposed to help Mom. She was barely 19 when she had me, and it was tough to be an army wife. A couple years later, dad left the service. He had some problems on base - today he probably would have been diagnosed with PTSD, but they didn't recognize it back then, so they just gave him an honorable discharge and sent him on his way. Money was tight. Dad wasn't happy to be out of the army, he liked things neat and orderly, and Mom wasn't the most domestic person and with two little boys there was always a mess somewhere. "

Booth paused, gathering his thoughts. Here's where it got tough to balance Parker's need for more information with his need to protect his kid from reality. "Dad started to drink. A lot. And when was drunk he'd get mean. When things would get ugly it was my job to keep Jared quiet and out of the way." Most times that meant hiding in their room, but some nights the shouting and crying were loud enough they would retreat to the closet. On more than one occasion they would fall asleep in there, only waking when Mom opened the door in the morning sporting blood shot eyes and fresh bruises. He shook the memories away and worked to keep his tone even as he stared at the dashboard. He couldn't look his son in the eye right now, not if he wanted to get this out. "When I was nine, he pushed Mom down the stairs one night. She busted up her hip and spent some time in the hospital. When it was time for her to be discharged she left instead of coming home. After that, until we went to live with Pops, if my dad was drinking, it was up to me to take care of Jared." He fell silent then, waiting to see if that was enough information to satisfy his son, knowing it probably wasn't, but he wasn't going to volunteer any more ugliness. Parker would need to ask what he wanted to know.

Parker asked quietly. "How long till you went to live with Pops?"

"Almost three years."

"But you were just a kid!" Parker was trying to imagine taking care of Christine. He couldn't, not now, let alone when he was nine.

His dad shrugged, "Jared was younger, he couldn't take care of himself."

More silence, then a gasp as he processed the information. "He hurt your mom, did he ever? I mean you and Uncle Jared, did he?" Parker looked at his father with horror, unable to say the words.

As much as Booth desperately wanted to lie, he nodded, "Yeah, he did."

"And she just left you with him?" The question was asked with venom.

Booth hesitated. How to explain when he couldn't explain it himself? "She had no family. The only job she'd ever had was as dance teacher and she'd written a few commercial jingles. Dancing wasn't a possibility any more, and the jingles didn't pay much and weren't very regular. She didn't know how she was going to take care of herself let alone two little kids."

She could have called Pops, a neighbor, Pop's daughter Ruth would have still been alive then, there were other things that could have been done. He opened his mouth to argue and then realized that his dad would have thought of all these things over the years. No sense in rubbing it in, but he suddenly became very glad his grandmother was in New Jersey. His dad may have forgiven her, but he wasn't close yet. "That's just fu...whacked, Dad. "

Booth offered a half smile at his son's near slip, but nodded in agreement. No matter how much he tried to justify her actions, his mother had only enough courage to save herself.

"Why did it take Pops so long?" While it was hard to tell by the dim lights of the parking lot, it seemed like Parker was holding back tears.

"He didn't know, Bud." Seeing Parker's look of disbelief, "He was still in the army. He and Grandma moved around and we did too. About six months after Mom left, Aunt Ruth got sick, so they had that to handle. We didn't live close enough for Pops to just drop by. Visits were planned. If Dad knew that his folks were coming around he'd be on his best behavior." The visits were double edged swords. The couple of days leading up to them Dad was tense but sober, while they were there it was great, after they left all hell had a tendency to break loose. "As soon as he found out, we went to live with him. "

"How'd he find out?"

"When Pops retired from the army, he and Grandma got settled in Philly and then decided to take a road trip. They were going to come visit at the end of their trip but something went wrong - car trouble or something, so they ended up coming three days early. They had thought about calling, but decided to just surprise us. " And it was a tossup as to who was more shocked he thought to himself. Some memories from that night were so vivid -Jared crying in the corner, him screaming for his brother to run, his father yelling at them both to shut up, the look of horror on Pops face, the shocked gasp from Grandma, the relief he felt at seeing his grandparents thinking that at least for this night, the terror was over. Shaking himself back to the present, he continued, "Dad was, um, on a tear when they arrived. Pops stopped him. It gets a little fuzzy after that, but the next morning he was gone, Pops and Grandma took us home." The reason for the fuzziness had to do with a well placed backhand but Parker didn't need to know that.

Parker was quiet, trying to digest everything he'd learned. He didn't know what he'd been expecting when his dad agreed to talk, but it wasn't this. "So. What happened? "

"Um, what do you mean what happened?" Booth was hoping he misunderstood the question. He did not want to talk about that last night with his father. He never had and he wasn't sure he could.

"What happened between you and Uncle Jared? " Booth could almost hear the "duh" added to the question. "You took care of him all that time. Why didn't you get along later?"

Booth rubbed the back of his neck, thankful that he'd dodged that bullet. "A lot of things. I couldn't stop trying to take care of him. He resented having both Pops and I trying to tell him what to do. Then I was overseas, he was overseas, we drifted apart - no email back then and it took letters a long time to catch up, and we could go a couple of years before our leaves overlapped. When we were finally on the same continent, he was drinking and I finally stopped cleaning up after his messes. He got sober, but it didn't last and I couldn't handle watching him go down the same path as my dad, even though he wasn't violent when he drank." Suddenly a wave of grief overtook him. Up until the point when Jared had gone out the window, Booth had clung to the hope that someday they'd be able to work things out. Booth looked at his son and said hoarsely, "But he did give a damn about me at some level - he got booted out of the Navy for saving my life. " He saw Parker's look of interest, "but that's a story for another night." He was already going to have a tough time sleeping tonight, no sense in adding that little trip down memory lane to the mix.

Parker finally really looked at his dad and realized what an ass he'd been. His father had watched his brother die and he'd thrown it in his face that they weren't the best of friends. Gulping, he offered sadly, "I'm sorry Dad, I didn't mean that earlier."

"It's okay." And it was, Booth knew the comment had come from his son being scared. Parker wasn't the type of kid to be intentionally cruel. "You were angry. Anything else? Are we good?"

"Yeah. We're good."

"Still want that burger?"

"No. Not so hungry any more. "

Booth started the car and headed towards home. They drove in silence, punctuated by an occasional sniff from Parker. Booth kept glancing at his son, trying to get a read on how he was doing, but the teen spent most of the drive staring out the passenger window. When they pulled into the garage, they met at the back of the SUV to unload the skates and Booth saw the tears in his son's eyes. Before the boy could protest he pulled him in for a tight hug. That seemed to break the dam and Parker clung as he silently cried into his dad's shoulder. Booth struggled to keep his own emotions in check as he held his son repeatedly whispering, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm fine." After a few minutes Parker calmed. Suddenly embarrassed to be crying like a baby he straightened up. Booth reluctantly let him go.

Trying to lighten the mood, he pointed at his father's shirt, "Sorry I got snot all over you Dad."

Booth laughed, "Not the first time you've done that buddy."

Parker laughed and grabbed his skates and started to head into the house.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I hear Bones tell you right, she made an extra pumpkin pie?"

Happy that things seemed to be heading towards normal Booth teased, "I think you heard that Bones made ME an extra pie. Don't recall her saying I had to share."

"Come on Dad!" That was said a little too loudly as Booth opened the door. Bones was standing in the kitchen bouncing Hank and she gave them the 'don't you dare rile up the baby look' which after she saw her husband and son's red eyes quickly turned into a look of concern.

Looking appropriately chagrined Booth kissed his wife, wrapping his arm around her and gently rubbing Hank's back. She whispered, "Is everything ok?" He nodded and whispered back, "will tell you later."

"Dad. Pie. Pleeaaaaaaaaase? " Parker whined quietly.

"All right. Since you said please. " He started to rummage through the refrigerator, mock grumbling the whole time, "can't believe I have to share this."

While he was pulling out plates Parker got settled onto a stool at the counter. Christine stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Seeing what her father was up to, she started to pout, "I want pie too!"

Brennan glanced at Booth in exasperation. It was way too late for a six year old to be out of bed, let alone eating sweets. Booth just shrugged, gave his wife his best charm smile and cut a small slice for his daughter. Some rules were meant to be broken, especially on a night like this. Bones sighed and conceding defeat pulled up a stool and settled Hank in her arms. He had been on the verge of sleep but was now studying his siblings intently. Parker pulled his little sister into his lap. Booth smiled at that, Brennan caught the action and reaction and reached across the bar to give her husbands hand a quick squeeze. Whatever had happened between father and son tonight, they both needed their family right now.

As he watched his son holding his daughter and his wife holding his baby and the smiles of all four, Booth committed the picture to memory. Damn, he was a lucky man.


	2. What's in a Name?

A/N: So this was going to be a one shot, but then a review from tanargue gave me some ideas and encouragement (thank you). Hopefully this doesn't disappoint.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On December 27, Booth picked his son up from the airport. It had been a rough three weeks since the explosion which had nearly killed Hodgins and Aubrey and everyone was still reeling from Hodgins' prognosis. For Booth, the holiday had been bittersweet. He was grateful that Aubrey was fully recovered and that Hodgins was alive. But, he missed his brother, and he knew that Hodgins had a long haul. The recent events had served as a stark reminder to relish every moment you had with your loved ones and Booth was determined to enjoy having his three children healthy, happy and under one roof.

Christine needed no reminder, launching herself at her big brother as soon as the door opened. Parker barely had enough time to drop his backpack and catch his sister. "Did you miss me? Did you miss Hank? How's London? Was the airplane fun? Did you know we're going to have another Christmas tomorrow? Are you excited? I got a new lab coat do you want to see? Michael Vincent taught Mommy and me how to make slime, have you ever made slime?" The questions came one after another, no chance for Parker to actually answer.

"Easy monkey, Parker's going to be here for a week, you don t have to ask everything right now. Give him a chance to take off his coat at least." Booth smiled at the two of them as he bent down to pick up Hank who had crawled the few feet over to his daddy.

Parker just laughed, put his sister down and said, "Yes. Yes. Fine. It was okay. I know. Yes. After dinner. A long time ago." As he watched Christine try and match his answers to her questions, he went to hug Bones and say hi to Hank.

Bags were quickly hauled down to Parker's room and the family sat down to dinner. The meal was lively. Christine was busily chatting to her brother, Hank had picked up on the excitement and was gurgling happily in his high chair as his parents traded off trying to feed him and managing to eat their own meals while still hot. After the kitchen was clean, Brennan headed off to bathe Hank while the other Booths settled in on the couch.

"Did you see the new stockings Aunt Angela made for us? " Christine asked Parker, pointing to the new family gifts that Angela had hand painted and delivered shortly before the accident. They all had their names on them of course, but even if they hadn't it would have been easy to identify which stocking belonged to which family member. They were whimsically painted - Booth s with Christmas themed socks and ties, Bones with books and if you looked really closely a skeleton or two, Parker's with hockey sticks, soccer balls, and festive DC and London landmarks, Christine's with stuffed animals wearing red and green lab coats or suits with FBI badges, Hanks with a variety of items designating his first Christmas. While Parker admired the handiwork, Christine was looking quizzically at them. "Daddy, I'm named after Mommy's mommy and Aunt Angela, Hank is named after your grandpa and Uncle Sweets, who is Parker named after?"

Parker watched his dad with interest. He had discovered his namesake one cold Saturday morning while visiting Arlington with his dad when he was six or seven, but it occurred to him he had never asked about Teddy Parker.

"Parker was named after an army buddy of mine."

"I don't remember him Daddy."

"He died before Parker was born sweetheart", Booth said softly.

"Oh." Christine patted her father's arm.

He smiled down at her. "Hey it's almost bedtime, and Hank's almost done with his bath why don't you pick out a story to read?"

After How the Grinch Stole Christmas , the two youngest Booths were tucked into bed. Bones announced she was heading into her office to do some work on her book, leaving father and son alone. Parker was tired, but realized that quiet time with his dad would be at a premium and decided to fight his jet lag. Since their talk at Thanksgiving he had realized that there were a lot of things he didn't know about his dad that he was curious about. Some he had asked when he was younger only to be put off with the armpit hair excuse. Others he was now realizing that although what his dad had told him was technically the truth, there were a lot of details missing. He didn't want to think about it much, but reality was that in the last two plus years, he'd lost two uncles violently, a third was now paralyzed and his dad had been shot twice. Maybe he shouldn't wait for someday to get the answers he wanted.

"Dad? Can you tell me about Teddy?" Seeing the shadow cross his father s face he quickly added, "you don t have to tell me about how he died. I just want to know who he was."

Booth nodded and then began to speak. "Teddy was training to be a spotter. He had a wicked sense of humor, was quick to joke if that's what you needed, but a damn good soldier. He just wanted to be everybody's friend. When we met, I didn't want a friend, but that didn't stop him from trying. Eventually he wore me down."

Parker looked at his dad curiously, "Why didn't you want a friend?"

Booth hesitated, trying to answer the question without it leading to more questions. " This was back in 98. I had just rejoined my unit after an, um, accident and only had 8 months left. Teddy was just starting his tour, so, I figured no sense getting to know a guy when I wasn't going to be around much longer." He hoped that would be enough to satisfy his son. The accident was a firefight that cost the unit a man, ended the career of another and sent himself and three others to medical leave. He had been injured while trying to shield Thompson. It hadn't worked. Thompson had died during evac, and he had spent 6 weeks waiting for his ribs to heal after they d pulled the shrapnel out of his back. At that point his goal was to finish his tour without losing any more of his sanity or friends.

"So this was before you joined the FBI the first time?" Parker knew that his dad had worked briefly at the FBI, then returned to the Rangers after the September 11 attacks for 2 years. At his father's nod he asked, "How'd he wear you down?"

Booth smiled remembering, "He just kept talking. He'd bring me a cup of coffee and then yack for 20 minutes or so. Telling me about his life back home in Bolivar, West Virginia, the girl he left behind, stories from high school, that sort of thing. At first I just listened because, hey, the guy brought me coffee. But after a while I started looking forward to his stories. I wouldn't say much, but it didn't matter to him. Got to be a joke between us. As he'd leave he'd say something like great conversation Sarge or some other smart ass remark. Within a couple of months, I knew his dad was killed by a drunk driver when he was a baby, his mom had been the school secretary and died of breast cancer a month after he graduated high school, so he'd joined the army. Figured he'd serve his time, go back home use the GI bill to go to college and become an engineer, marry Claire and have 2 kids a white picket fence and a dog he threatened to name Booth." He shook his head and said softly, "He was killed two weeks after his 20th birthday."

"Sorry Dad, I didn't mean to make you sad."

"It's okay. You should know about him. One of the reasons I named you Parker was that he'd told me once that no one would miss him. He was an only child, and neither of his parents had much of a family. I wanted him to be remembered in some way. "

"What about Claire? Wouldn't she miss him?"

"Yeah, she's never forgotten him." Booth pointed to a Christmas card hanging on the wall, showing a boy about four, getting his face licked by a golden lab wearing a Santa hat. "She got married a few years back. That's her son, Teddy."

Parker got up to look more closely at the card, not much was written on it, just a short note wishing them all Merry Christmas. "You kept in contact with her all these years?"

Booth hesitated, knowing if he answered truthfully, all sorts of follow on questions could be coming. Not sure if he was ready to open that can of worms. Deciding that he really was never going to be ready. "Actually, I only met her a few years ago. Visiting Teddy's grave. We'd seen each other there before, but she didn't know who I was and didn't want to bother me. I recognized her from a picture Teddy had but I didn't have the guts to talk to her. "

He turned to stare at his father incredulously, "You were afraid? Why?"

Booth shrugged. "I figured she wouldn't want to see me, and I didn't want to stir things up. Teddy and I went out on a mission, I came back, he didn't."

"Oh." A ton of questions ran through his mind, most of them wanting to know what happened on the mission but he figured he'd already stirred up enough bad memories. But he was still curious. "What changed? Why'd you finally talk to her? Or did she talk to you?"

Yep. Can of worms opened. Not sure how to explain without his son thinking he'd gone off the deep end. "Um, well. I was in a, um, a situation and Teddy's ghost helped me out." Seeing his son's look of disbelief, "I know. It sounds crazy. It was a couple of months before my brain surgery, so Bones insists that it was a hallucination, but he sure seemed real to me. Among other things, he asked me to tell Claire that he loved her. " He looked at Parker and said simply, "so I did. "

Parker stared, not sure what to make of that confession. He remembered the brain surgery, that had happened when he was eight. But what had happened before? He vaguely remembered that year that there was a cast, but he thought that came from a hockey game. He couldn't remember any other injuries so whatever had happened couldn't be too bad, could it? "What kind of situation?" He put air quotes around situation.

Of course that's the part his son would pick up on, Booth thought wearily. He REALLY needed to figure out how to balance Parker's need to know with his own desire to minimize worry and fear. Since the talk at Thanksgiving he'd resigned himself to a series of uncomfortable conversations with his eldest, but that didn't mean he'd like it. "I was kidnapped and put in the hold of ship out in the bay. Teddy and I figured out how to get to the deck. Bones, Jared and the squints figured out where I was and sent a helicopter to rescue me. That was the bailout that got Jared booted out of the Navy."

Ok, thought Parker with a wave a nausea, memo to self, just because you don't remember an injury didn't mean it wasn't bad. Looking at his dad's expression, he determined there had to be more to that story, but, that was likely all that he was going to get. And being kidnapped was bad enough, he didn't think he needed to hear the details of yet another time he'd almost lost his father. He wondered how many others there were, probably way more than he wanted to know. Another thought struck him, "What happened to the kidnapper?"

"Caught. Died shortly after being found guilty." He hoped he said that matter of factly enough to avoid more questions.

Parker was sure there more behind THAT statement too, but again, he probably didn't really want to know. Instead he turned his focus to another bit of the conversation. "What else did Teddy's ghost tell you?" At his dad's confused look he added, "You said 'among other things'..."

Crap. His son's attention to vocabulary was almost as bad as Sweets'. And obviously he was out of practice. He could just not answer, right? Yeah right, because telling a teenager he was too young was always well received. That would be a great start to the holiday visit. Suck it up. Exhaling loudly he answered, "that his death wasn't my fault." Seeing the unasked questions on Parker's face he continued, "There was nothing I could have done. The shot came out of nowhere, and even if we'd be in an emergency room instead of 5K from the rendezvous point, he wouldn't have made it. " He said it in his best 'this discussion is over' voice.

Parker recognized the tone immediately. And that was fine. He had more than enough to think about. He knew the 'no man left behind' military tradition. He knew the headstone he'd seen all those years ago in Arlington was not just a marker. His dad had said 'Teddy and I went out on a mission', not the unit. He thought about what that would have been like to carry your dead friend. Physically demanding, yes, worse than any strength drill his coaches could conceive. But mentally? He couldn't begin to imagine. He swallowed hard. When he was little he thought his dad a hero. Lately, as he and his friends hung out and bitched about their parents he'd begun to see his dad as all too human. Now? Now he realized his father was both.

He nodded and asked a few more questions about Teddy. Turns out his namesake sang off key, was a genius at lock picking, a fan of Ford Mustangs, argued passionately for the designated hitter (a character flaw both father and son agreed), and had once tried cow tipping and discovered it was a total hoax, but not before an irate farmer had scared the crap out of him and his friends by wielding a shotgun. Finally Parker realized the jet lag was winning.

Yawning he said, "I gotta hit the sack Dad." He stood and waited for his father to do the same. Hugging him tight he whispered, "Love you Dad."

"Love you too bud."

He started towards his room, then turned back. "Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for telling me about Teddy. I'm sorry I never got to meet him. Sounds like he was a great guy."

Booth nodded, "He was son."


	3. Reassurances

It was the night before Parker was due to return to London after a short end of summer visit. He and Booth had returned from a brief back packing trip that afternoon. Hank was in bed, Christine was reading Booth a bed time story and Bones and Parker were in the utility room, finishing up laundry so the teen could pack his suitcase without setting off TSA alerts. The weather had been warm, so father and son had returned from their 3 days in the wilderness a little fragrant. Both had said they had a good time, but, Parker had been a little subdued over dinner. Brennan wasn't sure if he was just tired or if something was bothering him. She was about to go with fatigue when he asked quietly, "Bones, is Dad okay?"

She was a bit taken aback. Knowing the physical demands of their adventure, plus the fact that they had less than adequate lumbar support for sleeping, she had been carefully studied her husband's movement throughout the evening and hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Now she wondered if she had been mistaken. "As far as I know, yes." She grew concerned, "Why? Did something happen on your trip? Was he injured in some way?"

He shook his head, "Nothing happened." He paused, somehow feeling like he was going behind his Dad's back. "It's just, well, it's been a while since I've seen him first thing in the morning, he's usually up and about before me you know? His rice krispy routine seems a lot worse than I remember."

"His rice krispy routine? I don't know what that means."

He didn't know whether to laugh or sigh at his step mother's lack of knowledge sometimes. "Snap, Crackle, Pop? It's what he called it when I was a kid."

She stared blankly at him then understanding dawned. "Oh, you mean the overnight buildup of synovial gas?"

Now it was his turn for a blank stare. Then he remembered his health class vocabulary. "Yeah. He used to joke about it when I was little. But, now I get that it's not funny. He says he's fine, but, he's in pain every morning isn't he? "

She sighed. One of their ongoing disagreements in parenting was how much truth their kids needed to know. She knew that since Jared's death Booth had been more willing to discuss his past with his eldest, and Parker was going to be sixteen in a couple of months, which was an adult in many cultures, so she decided that it was time to be completely honest with the teen. "He doesn't like to admit it, but yes, he is." Seeing the stricken expression, she tried to reassure him, "However, it's completely normal given his age and the skeletal damage he's endured over the years."

Parker had come to Bones knowing she would tell him the truth, but now he wasn't sure if had been a good idea-he'd been hoping that he'd been mistaken. "Is it gonna get worse then?"

"It is likely that his morning mobility will continue to decline, yes. As a person ages, cartilage becomes thinner, tendon hydration decreases which leads to a loss of elasticity, both of which contribute to a lose of range of motion in joints. In your fathers case, with his history of multiple fractures, there is a high likelihood of post traumatic arthritis as well." She paused, realizing that the scientific explanations did not seem to be improving Parker's mood.

"Does Dad know this?"

"Yes. He's taking steps to slow the rate of decline. He does a lot more stretching now days, less running and he's met several times with a physical therapist and a chiropractor to develop an exercise plan that strengthens the muscles and tendons that have been compromised."

"Sod it, I totally screwed up didn't I? I should have done the big trip with him instead of the writer's camp."

Now she was confused again. "Why would you say that? The writing workshop was a once in a life time opportunity Parker. Your dad was very proud of you for getting accepted and he was correct in that the Appalachian Trail will still be there next year."

"But," he hesitated, "will he still be able to do it?"

Ahh, now she understood. "Parker, the rate of decline will be unpredictable, but I am confident it will be several years before the deterioration reaches the point where he is no longer able to enjoy hiking. Christine was annoyed that she couldn't come with you, and he's already promised her a trip when she gets older. Assuming it's an activity Hank enjoys he'll be able to take him on a trip someday."

Parker looked somewhat relieved, and then not. "Several years. Then what? Can he still work at the FBI?"

"Well, not as a field agent, but there's other options for him at the FBI, or someplace else. He has friends at the CIA, Alex has said he has a standing offer at the State Department, or he could go back to being an instructor either at the FBI or with the Army. Or, he could just retire and become the PTA dad. " She smiled, "but, I don't really see him doing that."

He laughed at that mental image. He didn't see that happening either. "So, what do you think he'll end up doing?"

"It's hard to know. He likes the FBI, but opportunities for advancement will be limited since he won't take any position that requires Congressional confirmation and he's not terribly interested in relocating. But I don't think he cares too much about promotions any longer."

It pissed Parker off to know there was lasting fallout from the last Congressional hearing. He knew that Hadley's career was in ruins after spending time in a Federal Penitentiary for improper handling of classified information and that Durant would never see the outside of prison again but it seemed unfair that his dad still had that cloud over him. Dad had told him that as long as the people he loved knew the truth he didn't much care what anyone else thought, but Parker thought it sucked that anyone could have doubts about his fathers love of country. Booth often reminded him that being angry didn't change anything and he knew despite all the shit that had happened he knew his dad was happy. Trying to get rid of the frustration and tweak his stepmom at the same time, he put on his best charm smile and asked, "Yeah, but if you had to take a guess, what do you think he'll do?"

Bones rolled her eyes, like father like son. "Parker, you know I don't like to speculate, and even if I did, human behavior is a soft science, so predictions are often wrong. Plus, it's your father and over the years I've suspected that sometimes he deliberately alters his behavior just to prove me incorrect." She smiled and confessed, "It is truly exasperating at times that he refuses to be rational."

He grinned, he could totally see his dad getting a kick out of proving Bones wrong. But the rational comment puzzled him. His dad wasn't as rational as Bones, but no one was. Given that he usually understood his dad, he asked, "What do you mean?"

She ticked off examples, "He rarely complains about serious injury, but going to the dentist for a filling is a major ordeal. He can chase armed serial killers without fear and yet refuses to get into an elevator with a man dressed as a clown. "

"Well that makes sense." At her incredulous expression he shrugged, "Fillings make you drool all day, and let's face it Bones, clowns are creepy."

She shook her head and threw a T-shirt at him to fold. Booth men were hopeless.

He caught it easily, grinning at her. They handled the laundry in silence for a while and then Parker said quietly. "So, what happened to him in the army? With his feet and his back?"

Brennan sighed. Despite her comment about being unable to predict behavior she'd been expecting this question. She thought for a moment and then answered carefully, "That's his story to tell Parker. You'll have to ask him." She added gently, "I know what happened because a long time ago I read his X-rays. He doesn't discuss it much. It's difficult to hear and remembering it can't be easy. So, if he chooses not to tell you, please don't be angry with him."

He wasn't surprised with her answer. Part of why he asked Bones was over the years he'd picked up that his dad didn't want talk about his injuries. "Okay." He let out a breath, "Given what you just said, I'm not sure I want to know. Especially since you said he's okay." He looked at her for reassurance and she nodded. "But, if I do decide to ask, and he doesn't want to talk about, no worries."

"Good. Booth would be very upset if something came between you two. He loves you very much. "

"I know Bones. Thanks for talking with me."


	4. Letters from Pops

It was Thanksgiving, all the company had gone home and Parker and Booth were catching the last of the football game they'd DVRd earlier back in the man cave. Both were kicked back in the recliners sporting the festive socks that Angela had brought the family and then insisted they all put them on so that she could take a picture for the family Christmas card. As the game wound down Booth caught his son staring at his feet. He hoped it was just admiring the new footwear but deep down he knew better.

"Dad?"

He turned to face Parker and knew from his expression that his fears were confirmed. Parker was going to ask questions that he wasn't sure he wanted to answer. He took a deep breath, "Yeah?"

It had not escaped Parker's notice that when Angela had requested the photo Booth had gone to the other room to change his socks. He'd spent the better part of the last two hours trying to figure out if he wanted to know what happened. Keeping in mind his promise to Bones that he wouldn't get mad if his father declined to talk about it, he asked carefully, "What happened to you?"

Booth sighed. His mind raced, trying to decide what to say. He opened his mouth to speak and then realized he couldn't do this. He could give the basic facts of what happened but he knew that wasn't going to be enough for his son. Parker would have questions, questions that he wasn't prepared to answer. He stared at his feet, visualizing the ugly scars hidden by the colorful socks, remembering how they got there. He looked at his son, knowing that he was still expecting an answer one way or the other. He tried again to find the words. Nope, it wasn't happening, "I'm sorry Parker. I knew this day was coming, but I can't."

"Dad it's okay. I want to know because obviously it was a big deal for you, but I don't want to upset you. If you don't want to talk, it's cool. We're good. I promise."

Booth nodded. He knew Parker meant it, they were solid. But then he thought about all the questions he had about his dad, questions that he would never get answers to. Did he want that for his son? There was a way, but did he want to do it? He'd been having the internal debate since they found the journals. If he gave them to Parker he knew that he'd be nudging his son one more step from childhood. Parker was sixteen, no longer a kid. He was trying, though not too successfully, to grow a beard and Bones could rattle off a dozen tribes that would consider him an adult. Hell, when they'd gone to London to celebrate Parker's birthday last month he'd been able to buy him a beer in the pub. His little man was really a man. He needed to move. Standing and pacing, he went to the closet, then stopped. He studied his son again, saw the concern and the question. He paced again, still weighing his options. Finally he went to the shelf in the closet and pulled a battered book down. Handing it to Parker he said, "I can't, but Pops can. I finally went through his last box a couple of months ago. Turns out after Grandma died he wrote her periodically. Usually just a letter on their anniversary, but if something big came up he'd jot her a note. You can read everything in this one, but what you want to know happened in February 1991. "

Parker stared at the book and then looked at his father. "Are you sure?"

He fidgeted, still pacing, "Yeah, but, I need to leave okay? I'll still be up if you want to talk after. "

"Okay. Dad?" Booth looked back from the doorway. "Thanks." Booth nodded and left.

In the hallway father took deep steadying breaths, while in the man cave son ran his hand over the cover of the journal, trying to get the nerve to look in it. Finally he opened it smiling at his great grandfather's scrawl. Penmanship was not a Booth talent. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

 ** _Monday, February 25, 1991_**

 _I woke up this morning thinking it was going to be a great day. Bright and sunny, it melted the last of the snow in the yard, Jared for once didn't sleep through his alarm, so getting him off to school was easy. It looked like spring was around the corner. Marv came over for a cup of coffee and dominoes. We were shooting the bull when I saw them coming up the walk. Father Donovan and an army chaplain. My heart just about stopped. When the doorbell rang, Marv had to answer it. I couldn't make my legs move. Seeley is missing they said. I could breathe a little after that. Missing isn't...it ISN'T. They wouldn't give me any details other than his unit hasn't heard from him and four others in three days, and they'd let us know when they had any news. I don't know what happened to the rest of the day. I know we prayed. I know Marv stayed with me until Jared came home. Telling him was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Marv's wife brought over dinner. We didn't eat it._

 _ **February 26**_

 _No word from the army. I sent Jared off to school. He wanted to stay home, but, he needs to buckle down. It's his senior year, you know? And there is no reason. Seeley's okay, we just don't know where he is. That's what I keep telling myself anyway. We haven't really known where he's been since he left the states two months ago, so this is no different. The church ladies have started bringing us food. Casseroles and jello salads. Seeley hates jello. I say thank you but toss the salads in the garbage._

 _ **February 27** _

_Went to the early morning mass today. Haven't been to anything except Sunday services for a while, but we need all the help we can get. The army still doesn't say anything. On that note, I called Edwin today and let him know what's happening. I know Shrimp will be pissed if he finds out, but I'll deal with him when he returns. That's probably why I did it, give Seeley a reason to come home and chew my ass. Tried to call Marianne but the last number I had was disconnected._

 ** _February 28_**

 _President Bush announced a cease fire in Iraq. Everyone is hopeful that Seeley will be returned, but he's not listed on any official POW rosters, so it's hard to say. International Red Cross hasn't heard of him. All the army will say is that things are chaos over there, and they are still actively looking for them._

 _ **March 1** _

_The papers printed an updated list of soldiers killed in action. Two of the names today were from Seeley's unit. They had gone missing the same day he did. Trying to figure out whether that's good news or bad news. If he were dead, they would have found him with them. But, if he's alive where is he? And what's happening to him?_

 _ **March 2** _

_Oh Mary, he's alive! His CO Shmidt, called at 5 this morning. Apologized for waking me up. I have to say that when the phone rang I thought the worst, then I remembered that they wouldn't tell me something like that over the phone. They found him this morning. He was medivaced to the hospital in Kuwait. Schmidt didn't have a lot of details, but he said Shrimp gave his name, rank and serial number to the rescue team, so at least he was conscious. The doctors will call later with more news._

 _The docs called right before dinner. They think he's going to be okay. It's going to take a while and there's a lot of things that could go wrong, but he's young and strong. The damned Iraqis tortured him. Most of the bones in his feet are broken, along with his right arm, lower right leg and a few ribs. There are other hairline fractures in his spine, skull and face. And he's got a concussion, is extremely dehydrated and running a fever. That's just the physical damage. They didn't keep him awake long enough to find out the ways they messed with his head. They are going to give him a couple of days to stabilize and then do some surgery on his feet. Worst case, Shrimp will be on crutches or in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I know that I prayed just for him to be found alive, but now I'm greedy, I want him to recover fully._

Parker stopped reading and swallowed the bile in his throat. He knew it was going to be bad, but torture? Shit. No wonder his dad couldn't talk about this. He looked at his hands, they were shaking. Swallowing hard he continued.

 _ **March 3** _

_Went to church, lit a candle. Everybody was so happy for us, but I felt guilty. I didn't say anything yesterday, but, when I asked the CO about the other missing soldiers he told me that Seeley was the only one they got out alive. I can't imagine what their families are going through. The doctors gave me an update - they said they'd call every day after evening rounds which will be around 1500 our time- they still have him knocked out and will probably keep him that way another day, but he's doing better - kidney's are functioning, his temperature has dropped a bit and his blood pressure and oxygen levels are improving. They are hoping to do the first round of surgery on his feet tomorrow and then send him to Frankfurt in a couple of days. There's a better orthopedic surgeon there._

 _ **March 4** _

_Seeley woke up briefly but didn't say much. Seemed to understand where he was and could follow simple instructions, so the doctors are confident that he did not sustain any brain damage. Another prayer answered. Docs said he was in and out for a few hours and then they rolled him into surgery which went well. He hasn't woken up from that yet, but his vitals are good so they aren't too concerned. Everybody is pleased with his progress, but we probably won't get to talk to him until after he's moved to Germany._

 _ **March 5** _

_Had a little panic today. No call this afternoon. I was starting to think the worst had happened when they called about 1900. Turns out they put Seeley on a plane today and in the chaos of getting transport arranged the schedule got thrown off. Doctor apologized and I was about to read him the riot act for scaring the crap out of us when I realized it's 0200 there - they've put in some long hours. Anyway they hadn't really planned on sending Seeley out yet, but, he was doing well and if they didn't ship him today it would have been another 3 days before the next plane. They want to do the next round of surgery as soon as possible - figure it will speed his recovery time. The plane will get in in the wee hours of the morning here, but it will take a few hours to get him settled, so I should expect a call around breakfast time with an update._

 _ **March 6** _

_The morning passed without a call but when the phone finally rang mid afternoon and it was worth the wait. Finally got to talk to Shrimp! He didn't say much - just that he loved us and he was okay, we shouldn't worry. He sounded so tired, but the doctors said that was to be expected - he has a lot of drugs in his system. New doc says they're going to give him an extra day or two to recover before they put him through surgery again. He's still running a little bit of a fever and his blood pressure is lower than in Kuwait. They said it's not unusual to have a minor set back, particularly after transport and we should keep calm. Easier said than done, but just hearing his voice helped a lot. Just wish Jared was here to hear it. He won't admit it, but he's been really worried about his big brother._

 _ **March 7**_

 _Physically Seeley stayed stable overnight. But he kept asking about his buddies that were captured with him and they finally had to tell him they didn't make it. Doc said he kind of shut down after that - wouldn't talk to either the shrink or the chaplain. They will keep trying. Damn, I wish he was closer. Not that we could do anything, just let him know he wasn't alone. The military has round the clock volunteers and staff to sit with kids in his condition, but it's not the same as family. Am grateful that there are so many people helping him though._

 _ **March 8** _

_It was the chaplain that called today. Medically he's improved so they are scheduling surgery tomorrow. Chaplin wanted to let me know that he offered the anointing of the sick sacrament to Shrimp today and he declined saying "he didn't let the damned Iraqis kill him, there was no way the army doctors were going to". I apologized but the chaplain just laughed it off, said he'd heard a lot worse from soldiers. Seeley did pray with the padre for his buddies._

 _ **March 9** _

_Surgery went fine. He's looking at at least one more operation, probably two, but the doc is now pretty confident that Seeley will be able to walk without crutches. He still hasn't woken up though, but they're not worried yet. That seems to be a pattern - it just takes him a lot longer to wake up than they think. They are thinking they will ship him back state side to Walter Reed in a couple of days unless something goes south._

 _ **March 10** _

_Seeley woke up and they ran some more tests and he's recovering nicely. Wasn't able to talk to him yet because he's still pretty groggy. The church gave me some Amtrak passes so that when he finally gets back here Jared and I can go see him. Not sure what how we would have gotten through this without the parish._

 _ **March 11** _

_Got to talk to Shrimp for a few minutes. They are going to put him on a flight home in a few hours. He should be at Walter Reed by lunch time tomorrow but they are asking me to wait till Wednesday to see him. He said I can wait till the weekend, he's not going anywhere. Had to remind him that he's supposed to listen to me not the other way around. He didn't even argue with that - guess being stubborn takes more energy than he has right now. I know that he's not going to be the same kid that left us after Christmas, but I need to see him._

 _ **March 12** _

_He's stateside. Made the flight with minor complications - he's got a little chest congestion which they are watching closely because of his broken ribs-they don't want pneumonia. Visiting hours start at 10, they've warned me he may still not be awake when I get there, but I don't care. I'm going to get Jared off to school and head to the train station. It will take a couple of hours to get to DC and then a little longer to make it down to Bethesda. Jared's going to stay the night with his buddy Jake while I go stay with Frank and Mildred in DC overnight so I can see him on Thursday too. Will head back home Thursday night since Jared has his last basketball game of the season on Friday._

Parker paused before turning the page, anticipating that Pops' anxiety would be put to rest. He frowned when he glanced at the next page - the handwriting was even shakier and in parts the ink had been smeared as if moisture had hit in a few places.

 _ **March 15**_

 _I arrived at the hospital at 9:45 on Wednesday. The receptionist was being overrun with families waiting to see their service men and women. She'd already given up trying to enforce the real visiting hours and sent me to the third floor. The nurse there, Emily, took me down to his room, reminding me that Seeley was going to be okay. That should have tipped me off. He was still asleep when we got there, and thank God for that. Gave me time to get my act together before I scared him. I just stood there staring at him for a few minutes, completely shocked by his appearance. I thought I had prepared myself, but I don't know what the hell I was thinking._

 _He's so thin, Mary. I don't know how much weight he's lost, but he's just skin and bones. Emily said that's nothing to worry about, they've been giving him vitamins intravenously and he'll be starting on solid food soon so he'll get the weight back. Just about every place that isn't covered with a bandage is bruised, scraped or bitten - rodents and bugs and who knows what else. He's missing a couple of fingernails too. It was the weight loss and the bites that got me. So stupid. They were torturing him, of course they wouldn't feed him or hold him in a clean place, but those thoughts had never crossed my mind in the last couple of weeks. I know I'm not supposed to say this, but I hope whoever did this to him is rotting in hell._

 _Emily told me they were trying to get him to wake up, so I should talk to him. I gave him the neighborhood news, read some cards they'd sent with me, then started reading him the sports section of the paper - knew he'd want to know about the Flyers game last night. At some point a volunteer brought me a cup of coffee and then an hour later a Sports Illustrated. I talked for about four hours before he finally opened his eyes. He panicked for a bit, causing some monitors to beep, but eventually he calmed down enough to listen to us. He cried a little when he figured out he was back home and I was real. I did too. Spent the rest of the afternoon feeding him ice chips when he was awake - his right arm is in a cast and the left has IVs hooked into it. Plus, he wouldn't say it, but I don't think he had the energy to do it himself. I ended up having the same conversations with him over and over again because he'd drift off in the middle, but he was following them. He didn't seem to want to talk about what had happened and I didn't ask. I just wanted to appreciate that he was alive._

 _Doctor Grier came in around 1700. Listened to Shrimps lungs, did some cognitive tests. Everything seems to be fine. Doc accused Seeley of lying when he said his pain was only 5 on a scale of 1 to 10, but Seeley just glared at him. Surprisingly that made me feel better, showed me that no matter what they did to him they didn't break him. The doc laid out the plan for his recovery. They can't do a whole lot until his bones heal a little bit more, but they'll start physical therapy as soon as they can. In the mean time he'll start seeing the army shrink (that brought some eye rolling). In another couple of weeks they'll do surgery on his feet again. It will be at least another month before they try to get him back on his feet. I didn't stick around too much longer after the doc left-Frank came to pick me up and Shrimp was obviously exhausted. Told him I loved him and would be back tomorrow. Frank took me back to their place for a nice dinner and a good single malt. Know you don't always approve of that Mary, but I think even you might have indulged._

 _Thursday he was awake a little more but still not talking much. They started letting him have liquids - water and broth. Shrimp wanted to know when milkshakes would be on the menu. He managed to keep everything down which was a good sign. At one point they had to do stuff to him so they had me get lost, I went down to the chapel and prayed. Chaplain asked if I was okay and we had a good chat. Now that we know Seeley's going to be mostly okay physically I'm starting to worry about him mentally. I'm so afraid that he's going to end up like Edwin - bitter, angry and drowning himself in the bottle. Chaplin told me that things are different now - there are support groups and therapists and a lot of people to help Seeley along the way. We just have to have faith that it will work out. The chaplain promised to look in on him from time to time.  
_

 _When I left for the day I explained that I wouldn't be back till Saturday afternoon. Jared was going to take the train over on Saturday morning to see him and that he should be nice to each other. That at least got a grin from the boy and he promised to be good if Jared was. Tried to prepare Jared for what he was going to see when he visited tomorrow but I don't know how much he listened, he was too hyped from the basketball game. You know how he can be. The team didn't make the playoffs, but they won today and finished the season over .500._

 _ **March 16**_

 _It was a very quiet drive home from Bethesda. I thought Seeley was looking much better than when I left on Thursday. He ate a little today and was actually talking - not just answering questions. Jared was shocked though. I don't know if he just didn't hear me yesterday or he thought I was exaggerating, but he truly didn't grasp how banged up Shrimp was. Kept reassuring him that everything would be okay. We were going to visit again tomorrow but Seeley said no. He was fine and we shouldn't spend all of our time on the train or in the car. He also said I couldn't visit on Monday because he knows that's my domino day. Finally we settled on I'd come visit on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and both Jared and I would come one day over the weekend. Other than that we can call, and the doctors have promised to let us know if anything comes up. Part of me thinks I should have argued harder, part of me is happy that he's being his stubborn independent self._

Parker let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and wiped some tears from his eyes. While he'd read he'd been reminding himself that his dad was just in the next room - whole and healthy. He fought the urge to just run out and hug him. He knew there was more to the story and he owed it to his father to get through it all at once. If there was anything he wanted to talk about with his dad tonight was the night - dragging him down memory lane again wasn't an option.

 _ **Sunday, March 24** _

_The week has been fairly uneventful. Shrimp is improving - he's starting to add some meat on those bones and the bruises are fading. He no longer has any stitches anywhere and the sores are mostly healed. They're going to take some X-rays on Monday and if things look good, they'll be able to shorten the cast on his arm to below the elbow which will make it easier for him to get in and out of the wheelchair and start physical therapy. Overall he is in better spirits, but you can tell he is pissed off at the world sometimes. Not that anyone can blame him. He didn't want to talk to the shrink but they made it clear that if he wants to rejoin his unit when he's healed it's a requirement. I have mixed emotions on that. Glad they are forcing him to get help, but scared to death of him returning to the Rangers. I know it's his decision and we'll support him either way, but, I can't imagine going through this again._

 _ **March 31** _

_Things are still going well. Seeley managed to charm the staff into letting me smuggle in a cheese steak. Didn't look too appetizing by the time I got it to him, but it was good to watch him enjoy eating it. He's now healthy enough to be bored so a woman - I can't remember her title liaison, social worker, outreach services director or some other fancy crap - has set it up so he can take some college courses while he's recovering and when he returns to his unit. Said that if he works at it, he can have his degree before he leaves the service. He seems excited by that idea, and it's good to see the spark in his eye. They are going to surgery again on Tuesday. He's not looking forward to it - not wanting to be stuck in a bed again, but they keep telling him it won't set him back too much and in the long run he needs it to walk normally._

 _ **April 7** _

_Surgery went fine. They had him back out of bed by Thursday and on Friday they took the cast off his wrist. So, from the knees up he's pretty much healed. They are doing PT with him, getting him ready to manage crutches when the feet heal well enough to bear some of his weight. As soon as they can get him out of the wheelchair some they will let him come home to us and set up outpatient work at the VA here in Philly. Seeley didn't seem too keen on that - I think he's worried about being a burden, but it will be good to have him home. We'll just have to out stubborn him._

 _ **April 21** _

_Seeley is coming home next week. The guys in the parish helped us build a ramp so that he can get in and out of the house, and so a few other things the VA recommended in the house so that he can manage. His bed is in the living room since he can't make it upstairs for another couple of weeks, but, it's all good. He's a little anxious I think about being out of the hospital, but it will be good to have him home. Haven't told him yet, but, we'll be taking him to the Phillies game next weekend. Marv called the box office and explained the situation so we have tickets where we can have the wheelchair. Not sure how he'll feel about being in the handicapped section, but hopefully getting to see live baseball will make up for any nerves._

 _ **May 5** _

_We've settled into a routine - Jared heads off to school, Seeley to therapy. Sometimes I drive him, sometimes it's an army volunteer or somebody from the neighborhood. He and Jared get home about the same time, then they both settle in and do their homework. Never thought I'd see that sight at the kitchen table again. Jared's heading off to Penn State in the fall on a Navy ROTC scholarship, will graduate high school next month. Shrimp has knocked off two more classes towards his degree. We could move his bed upstairs now - he can manage the stairs with crutches but he's not sleeping well yet so he doesn't want to disturb Jared. Will give him another couple of weeks._

 _ **May 16** _

_We celebrated Shrimps twenty second birthday. He 'partied' by turning in his wheelchair and moving back upstairs to his old room with Jared. He can now walk a few steps unassisted, though he still needs crutches if he's going to go very far. His new goal is to get rid of the crutches by the end of the month and graduate from therapy by the time Jared graduates high school. Jared has a countdown - twenty two days. I think they'll both make it._

 _ **June 7**_

Parker smiled at this entry. Pops' scrawl read Mission Accomplished! And wedged in the pages was an old photograph - Uncle Jared, Pops and his dad laughing. Uncle Jared wearing his cap and gown. At a glance it was a typical photo marking a family rite of passage. It was only if you looked very closely could you tell that his dad's smile wasn't quite as big as it could have been, and there were shadows under his eyes.

He thumbed through a few more entries for the year - they were sporadic and mostly a line or two - Shrimp passing his army physical, Jared heading off to college, Seeley being deployed, that sort of thing. He closed the book then spent a few minutes processing what he had learned, trying to figure out, what, if anything he should say. He wasn't going to ask his dad to talk about it, it was enough to have let him read the journal. Returning it to the closet shelf he headed out to find his dad.

He found them in the living room. Slow dancing to something playing softly on the jukebox. He couldn't make out the song and it really didn't matter. They weren't really dancing, more like hugging and swaying slightly just shuffling their feet still clad in those amazingly garish Christmas socks. Bones was rubbing his dad's back like she often did with Hank or Christine when they were upset. His dad was clutching her tightly and smiling although you could see the evidence of a tear on his cheek. He'd been reading for an hour and he wondered how long they'd been like that. He could imagine his dad pacing and fidgeting until Bones finally distracted him with the offer of a dance. Hesitant to interrupt he just watched for a few more moments until she opened her eyes and noticed him standing there. She opened her arm in welcome and the motion drew his dad's attention and he did the same. Walking into their embrace the three of them clung to each other, each relishing the comfort of the arms of the other two.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Christmas Lights

The next morning Parker stumbled into the kitchen rubbing his eyes and yawning. Brennan smiled as she watched the teen's morning routine. Anyone with even the most rudimentary observation skills would know he was Booth's son as he staggered towards a caffeine source. The only difference was for now at least, Parker's was tea instead of coffee. She was pretty sure that would change in a couple of years. From experience she knew that there was no sense in initiating a conversation. She was fluent in six languages but grunt wasn't one of them. He would speak when he was ready.

After about half of the mug was consumed he glanced around the room. Hank was in the corner stacking blocks and Bones was reading files at the breakfast bar. He smiled as he saw Christine at the craft table, folding origami ornaments. He remembered very well his dad teaching him. Christine, as expected, was showing a lot more focus and precision than he ever did. "Where's Dad?"

Bones just rolled her eyes. Parker should know where Booth was this morning. It had happened every year they'd been together. "Outside. Putting up the Christmas lights!" Christine bounced excitedly.

"So early?" And then he glanced at the clock, "oh, I guess it's not that early. " He grinned at Bones sheepishly, "Sorry."

She patted his arm and said sympathetically, "It's okay Parker. I can imagine that getting to sleep was difficult last night."

He nodded, "Dad too?" After the group hug there hadn't been much talking - just father and son exchanging confirmation that the other was okay.

She offered a half smile. She had drifted off rather quickly in Booth's arms last night, but she had felt his tension and it had been a shallow sleep until she'd felt his embrace relax. "Yes. Once he did get to sleep though, he slept rather well. Hopefully that was the same for you?"

Parker let out a breath and nodded again. He was glad to hear that last night hadn't triggered any nightmares for his Dad. That was another thing they didn't talk about, but growing up, he had heard the occasional shouts down the hall in the night. And he hadn't thought about it before but, when he'd had the rare bad dream as a kid his dad had ALWAYS been better at soothing him than his mom. Guess experience counted there he thought sadly.

He sipped his tea. "Do you think he needs help?"

Bones smiled at him, "I don't know that he needs it, but he'd probably like it very much. You should have some breakfast first though "

Parker grinned and turned towards the cupboard, pulling out a box of Pop Tarts that was stashed behind some healthy looking granola. Ignoring her look of disgust he shook two out. "Way ahead of you Bones." He headed to his room to grab his shoes and jacket while she protested that was not breakfast, that was a mixture of chemicals and highly processed food like substances.

Outside he found his dad on a ladder, hooking lights onto the gutter. "Need a hand?"

Booth was surprised to see his eldest. Last year, while stopping short of open disdain, Parker had made it clear in the universal language of teenagers who think their parents are defective that putting up outdoor decorations was a waste of time. The house was so far back from the road, no one could see them unless they were coming to visit so what was the point? Booth was somewhat used to his family merely tolerating his extreme enthusiasm for Christmas, so he had been undeterred. However, he was not going to turn down an extra set of hands - the cold and damp weather was going to take a toll if he stayed out too long. "Sure. Almost done here, and then we can get started with the trees and the bushes." He secured the last section of the lights and descended the ladder.

Father and son worked in near silence for a while, speaking only when required as they wrapped multi colored strings around tree trunks and untangled net lights for the bushes. The lack of conversation wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but both were feeling a little raw about the previous nights events and neither was sure they wanted to push the other into a discussion. When Booth pulled out some more lights still in boxes, no doubt purchased on sale after Christmas last year, Parker couldn't resist gently poking at his father, "More lights Dad? Are you trying to make the place visible to passing airplanes?"

Booth shook his head and stubbornly declared, "There is no such thing as too many Christmas lights." He fixed a stern look at his son, "And you should know that!"

Parker held up his hands in defense, "Right. Silly me. Where do you want these?"

Booth pointed to an unadorned bush at the far corner of the house. Parker rolled his eyes. The only way you saw THAT bush was if you were in the laundry room. He was about to point that out but something stopped him. He realized that this was one more thing he'd always remember about his dad. And he also realized that even though he was only sixteen he had a long list of happy memories already. The same could not have been true for his father at his age. Trying to understand, "You really do love Christmas lights don't you Dad?"

Booth nodded happily, "Yep." Then he added softly, remembering, "Always have." He looked at his son. Parker's expression indicated he'd like to know more, but wasn't sure how to ask. He shrugged and continued, "When I was little, we didn't have a lot of money. Going out to look at Christmas lights was cheap. Sometimes we'd go for a drive to a different neighborhood, sometimes we'd just walk. Dad didn't always go with us, but when he did he was sober. Mom would sing carols. We'd come back and have hot cocoa. It was nice."

Parker just nodded, hoping his dad had other happy memories, but not wanting to prod him in case there wasn't. Booth continued, "Even after Mom left, Dad would take us out sometimes. He always tried to straighten out around Christmas time, usually didn't last past New Year's Eve, but for a couple weeks in December things were pretty good. And then when we went to live with Pops and Grandma, well, they did Christmas right. Grandma would bake cookies for days. I'd come home from school and the house would smell so good. She'd try to tell us that we couldn't have any - those were for Christmas Eve, or for after church, or a gift or something. But, there would always be a few broken or misshapen ones off to the side that weren't deemed good enough for the occasion and we could have those. " He smiled, "One time basketball practice let out early, so I came home and caught her pulling out a whole tray of 'defective' cookies. It was our little secret."

"That's awesome."

"She was. " They worked in silence for a few minutes and then Booth added. "You've always liked Christmas lights too. "

"Well yeah. " It has always been a tradition with them, to go look at the lights. Now Parker knew where it had come from.

"It would have been your second Christmas. I missed your first one, couldn't get leave." Booth frowned briefly, he'd been waiting in a hell hole in Afghanistan, waiting for a senior Al Qaeda member to stick his head out just long enough for... he shook his head, not wanting to go there right now.

Parker saw the change in his dad. Trying to lighten it, "I was 2 months old for the first one Dad. I'm sure I was about as interesting as tinsel. "

Booth smiled, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'd had been taking you for a couple of hours here and there around Christmas. " He'd been pushing Rebecca for more time, but she'd been resisting. "Your Mom had a big New Year's Eve planned - her mom was going to watch you, but something came up. So I took you out to Pops. " He'd alternated between Philly and couch surfing with buddies in DC his entire leave and flat out rejected Rebecca's offer to stay with Parker at her place for the night. She hadn't been happy with the idea, but her desire to have her planned weekend had given him the needed leverage. "You were fine during the drive and that night, but when I went to put you down in the playpen, you decided that sleeping in a strange place was not on the agenda. The only way to get you to calm down was to walk around the Christmas tree. You were fascinated with the lights. Every time I went to put you down you'd start crying again, so we spent the entire night on the couch with the tree on. "

"Geez Dad. Sounds like an awful way to start a New Year."

Booth shook his head. "Nah, turned out to be one of my better ones." Catching Parker's incredulous look he went on, "The army was asking me to sign an extension to my contract even though I still had time on it. I'd actually been considering it. The FBI was going to give me a job back, but they couldn't say doing what or where, your Mom and I weren't getting along too great at the time, and I was a good soldier. The army was looking pretty good." Parker was confused. "How did spending the night not sleeping on a lumpy couch with a crying kid change your mind?"

"Part of the reason you were so fussy was you were at that stage where you didn't like strangers. I didn't want to be a stranger to you. So, when my tour ended I got the hell out. Spent a couple of years with the FBI in New York then managed to get transferred to DC." He grinned, "as they say, the rest is history. And it turned out pretty damn good. "

They had run out of lights at this point so they took a step back, admiring their work.

"Doesn't look like much now, but tonight, it's going to be epic".

"Yep. "

Parker took the ladder and they headed towards the garage

"Thanks for coming out and giving the old man a hand."

"Anytime Dad."

As Booth hung the ladder he commented, "Not to disparage free labor bud, but that's not what you thought last year."

Parker paused. Not sure how to put it into words without getting all sappy or having it come out all wrong. Since learning about all the crap his dad had gone through as a kid and in Iraq, he'd come to the conclusion that if a little thing like Christmas lights made his dad happy, his dad should have Christmas lights. But he couldn't figure out a way to say it that didn't come out like he pitied his father. Finally he shrugged and said simply "Older and wiser Dad." He hoped his dad got the message.

Booth caught the somber expression. There was a small part of him saddened that by sharing some of his secrets he'd taken some of Parker's innocence. A larger part was proud that his son was a compassionate and caring young man. He put his arm around Parker and ruffled his hair like he'd done hundreds of times when he was a boy.

Parker protested mildly, "Dad! Don't mess with the hair!"

Booth gave him his best sorry, not sorry look. "Come on, there's some hot chocolate with our name on it."


	6. Medals

A couple days before New Years, Parker sat in his dad's office. They were attending a Georgetown basketball game later - the original plan had been to meet Wendell and Aubrey at the game but Booth had been called in by Stark for a briefing about a case that was turning into a "jurisdictional pissing contest", so Booth had reluctantly agreed to a change in plans with everyone meeting at the Hoover. Annoyed at the vacation interruption Booth promised his son that it would only be a half hour. Parker had waved it off telling his dad, "I'm a big boy now. I can entertain myself for a little bit." He had rolled his eyes at his father's admonition to not destroy his office.

In the first few minutes of Booth's absence Parker texted a couple of friends, but while fidgeting in the office chair his attention was diverted to the shadow boxes on the wall. He knew them of course, they'd been hanging in the office for as long as he could remember, but, he realized he'd never REALLY looked at the medals in them before. Some were easily recognizable, others he had no clue about and then there were a bunch of ribbons he had no hope of knowing what they were for. He wondered if his dad would ever want to talk about them. After a little thought, he decided the answer would most likely be no. He doubted his mom or Bones understood what all the awards meant. Pops would have but it was too late- he highly doubted there were journal entries- the Purple Heart most likely came after his dad was rescued in Iraq and Pops had made no mention of it. He sighed, and then decided to snap a picture. Even if his dad never discussed the actions leading to them he could do some web searches and figure out what they were for.

As he was checking the pictures to make sure they were focused he heard a soft "Parker?" from the doorway. He turned and smiled "Agent Burns!"

Charlie grinned. "Wasn't sure you'd remember me. It's been a while. "

"How could I forget the guy who used to let me help out with paperwork?" Parker gave a chuckle. When he'd visited the office as a kid, if his dad got too busy, Charlie would come into the office with papers and every color of highlighter the FBI possessed, and give Parker some new 'regulation' on what fields needed to be colored in. Parker smiled, remembering. Agent Burns probably had some serious explaining to do as to why a report looked like a unicorn vomited on it.

They exchanged updates for a bit, Charlie had moved out to LA shortly before Parker had moved to London and had switched over to cybercrimes as opposed to murder. He explained that like Booth, he didn't always understand the squint speak, but he had learned to bridge the gap between science and law enforcement and now was running the department. He had just returned to DC 6 months ago and had a daughter about Christine's age. He nodded towards the boxes and asked, "Checking out the old man's hardware?"

"Yeah. Always thought they were cool as a kid, but, " he admitted sheepishly, "I don't understand what half of them are for."

"And your Dad doesn't talk about them of course." Charlie said knowingly.

"Right. How'd you know?"

"MY dad is an army history buff, so I know a lot of the medals and ribbons. For must guys, it's a conversation starter, but, the couple of times I commented on them, Booth would change the subject. " He shrugged, "I got the message. Always kinda wondered why they were up there, since he didn't want to talk about them, plus, there's enough awards I know he got that AREN'T on the walls. Not surprised he doesn't brag about them at the dinner table."

"His grandfather had them framed when he got an office. I vaguely remember going with him to help pick out the background and frames. " Parker smiled, "Pops said Dad needed something on the walls and he needed the drawer space. "

Charlie gave a short laugh, "That sounds about right."

"So, do you know what some of these are?"

Charlie came around the desk and pointed at various badges, "Combat Infantry, Master Parachutist, Air Assault, Expert Marksman. Pretty much all required to be a Ranger, so you can imagine they weren't easy to come by. "

Parker nodded, pointing to the Purple Heart, Bronze Star and various campaign medals- Afghanistan, Iraq, Kuwait, the War on Terror, "I know what these are, and have a pretty good idea on how he got the Purple Heart, but, what about these?" he asked, pointing to some ribbons.

"Most of those are just service ribbons - NCO, infantry, overseas tour of duty, that sort of thing. "That one," pointing to a gold trimmed burgundy, "is a MUC - Meritorious Unit Commendation, a mid level award - not every unit gets them, but they're not that rare. But this one, " indicating a distinctly non impressive navy ribbon framed in gold, "is pretty impressive. " At Parker's raised eyebrows he continued, "That's a Presidential Unit Citation. The individual equivalent is Distinguished Service Cross. The unit had to have had some pretty hairy experience to earn that one."

"They did." Wendell's voice came from the doorway, startling Charlie and Parker. "Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you. And I didn't mean to eavesdrop, just didn't want to interrupt since I've always been curious as well."

"Hey Wendell." Parker waved in greeting and then asked softly, "what do you know about my dad's army time?"

Wendell shifted uncomfortably, not sure that he should have said anything, but, now that he'd stuck his foot in his mouth his options were limited. Booth had never said that the story was a secret, but he knew his friend was a very private person. Still, it was Charlie and Parker, neither of whom would repeat it unnecessarily. "Um, in 2002 he and 14 other guys went into the mountains in Afghanistan. Supposed to be routine, but the Taliban had regained control of the area and ambushed them. Took days for reinforcements to arrive. Only 3 of them survived. " He stared at the floor for a moment and then looked up, "I don't know if that's when they got the citation, Booth never said anything about an award, but, if he was in worse jam than that, I don't think I want to know."

Parker let out a breath as Charlie gave a low whistle. "Me neither. Geez."

Wendell realized that he owed Parker an explanation as to why he'd heard the story when it was clear Booth's son hadn't. "Your dad only told me that story to give me a kick in the ass when I had cancer, said he'd seen enough friends die. " Wendell shook his head and grinned, "There were several times I was so sick I thought about giving up treatment, but then I'd think about telling him that I wasn't going to fight anymore and decide that chemo was easier." He paused and then added, "and I'm still sure I was right."

Parker nodded in agreement, disappointing his father was something he tried to avoid at all costs. Not wanting to contemplate any more war stories he turned to Charlie, "You said there were awards not on the wall. What do you mean?"

"Well, I know he and Dr. Brennan stopped a terrorist bombing at a peace conference several years back. There was supposed to be a Rose Garden ceremony. Booth declined it. " He paused, "and there's the FBI Shield of Bravery. He got that after the whole Durant affair. Not sure where it is."

"It was on a lower shelf there for a while, " Wendell offered, " but when after he came back from his retirement, it didn't come with him." He shrugged, "I just figure he didn't want to be reminded of everything that happened while taking Durant down."

The other two nodded. Charlie hadn't been in DC during the whole mess, but he was very aware how close Booth and Sweets had been and that the death of the psychologist would have weighed heavily on the agent. Parker knew that the time in jail had been hard on his dad both physically and mentally, he could totally understand why his dad didn't want reminders.

With the bullpen mostly empty, the ping of the elevators could be heard clearly, as well as Booth and Aubrey bemoaning the waste of time that was the briefing. Charlie took that as his cue to leave, with Parker thanked him for saying hi, said he'd hoped to see him next time he was in town. There wasn't time to say much more as Aubrey quickly turned the discussion to where dinner should be obtained on the way to the game. Parker allowed his focus to be turned, knowing that he'd had enough time to think about what he'd learned later that night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sorry for the delay in updating. Real life has gotten in the way. Apologies for any mistakes - I know nothing about Army or FBI awards, so relied heavily on wikipedia. Reviews appreciated!


	7. Trying to Understand

It was spring break as Parker made his way through customs at Dulles International, smiling when he saw his dad waving at him. Booth quickly closed the distance between them and pulled his son into a bone crushing hug. It had been 10 days since the Jeffersonian had been bombed and it wasn't till he'd walked into the arrivals lounge that the agent had realized how anxious he was to have his family all together. Yes, they texted almost daily and video chatted once or twice a week but it wasn't the same. With the events of the last couple of months, he needed the physical contact to finally let the worry go. The price they had paid was steep, but it was over.

"Dad! Breathing would be good!" Parker's voice was muffled in his father's shoulder. Normally he would have been embarrassed by the public display, but, he sensibly figured no one HE knew was likely to see it.

"Sorry." Booth grinned sheepishly and released his hold enough to get a good look at his son. It had only been 4 months since Christmas, but he swore Parker had grown another 2 inches. Next trip the kid might be taller than his old man. "It's just good to have you back. " He started to grab the suitcase off the cart with his right hand and then thought better of it and reached with the left.

Parker noticed the brace on his Dad's wrist. Pointing he asked, "Everything ok?"

Booth nodded, "Yeah. Was at the range today and it's a little sore. Bones wants me to baby it a little bit. "

"How's she doing?"

"Good. The neurologist thinks a few more weeks and everything will be back to normal. She's mostly there now, just when she gets tired she has some memory problems. But, overall we got lucky. It could have been a lot worse."

They arrived at the SUV and loaded the bags in. Parker was used to his dad trying to put the best spin on things, but, he was having trouble wrapping his brain around it. Since his last visit, Aldo and Grandpa Max had been murdered as well as another army buddy and an FBI colleague, his dad and Bones had nearly been blown up twice, and the Jeffersonian had pretty much been destroyed. While it was obvious things could have been worse, lucky was not first word that came to mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After a couple of days at home, it became clearer to Parker that while his dad had only suffered minor physical damage, mentally was another matter. Always protective, he seemed to have stepped it up another notch. Christine's class went on a field trip and was 10 minutes late getting back due to traffic and Booth was pacing. Hank decided to play hide and seek one night without actually telling the rest of the family and both adults showed visible signs of panic before Christine found the toddler in the laundry basket. When Parker went to visit one of his friends there was a near interrogation about plans, supervision and expected itinerary.

It was also clear that his dad did not want to discuss ANYTHING regarding Kovac and his vendetta. Attempts by Parker to ask questions was met with an abrupt change in subject. With his curiosity not being satisfied, the teen took to reading articles online and grabbing a few newspapers out of the recycle bin. Given the destruction of one of DCs most visited facilities, this had been a pretty big deal and there was a lot of press. Trying to avoid upsetting his father Parker did his best to keep his investigation a secret, but, the down side of being under the same roof as a top FBI agent was having your behavior go unnoticed was pretty close to impossible. Particularly when said agent was only going to the office a couple hours a day.

His luck ran out a couple of nights before his departure. Parker left his tablet powered up as he grabbed a snack. Booth came out from tucking in Hank and found it open to an article on the Kovac and his possible motives for targeting the Jeffersonian. Parker turned from foraging in the fridge to find his father with the tablet in hand and the muscle in his jaw ticking in annoyance.

"What's this?" Booth asked tersely.

Parker shrugged, "Just trying to understand what happened Dad."

"He tried to blow us up and he lost. That's all you need to know."

"Riiiiggghhht. Because you and Mom and Bones, you taught me never to ask questions." Parker knew he was probably being a little too flippant but, he was tired of being kept in the dark.

Booth had been scanning the article and his head snapped up at the smart ass remark. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"COME ON Dad! I'm not Christine's age! I'm old enough to know what happened, and you keep treating me like a kid. This guy Kovac was intent on destroying you and you tell me to never mind? What the hell?"

"This is not up for discussion Parker. Kovac is dead. It's over. " Booth said it in an even tone, but the muscle in his cheek was twitching.

Parker noticed, but was not backing down, "You said it was over when he went to jail for killing Max! He hired killers to do his dirty work. His sister is still alive, what's to stop her from finding someone to finish the job?"

"We're watching her. And, all indications are that she just went along with the plan, she's not interested in her own revenge." As soon as the word left his mouth Booth realized his mistake.

"Revenge?" Revenge for what? Her brother's death? Or her fathers?" The last question was asked quietly, but Parker watched his father pale.

"What?"

"I've been reading dad, I can put two and two together. The general was killed by a long range shot. You were in Bosnia. It's not that hard to figure out."

"I am NOT talking about this with you Parker. " Booth's voice was raised and his fists were clenching along with his jaw.

"FINE!" This was nearly shouted. "I'll just read about it in the papers!" He grabbed the tablet and stomped towards his room, nearly colliding with Bones in the hallway.

"What's going on? I could hear you two down in Christine's room." She asked her husband who was fuming in the kitchen.

"Parker's been researching Kovac's motives." Booth replied tersely, "And now he wants to talk about them. "

"Oh". It was said softly. She reached out to touch him, grabbing his forearm and sliding her hand down to try and take his. He did not unclench. "What did he want to know?"

"I didn't ask. It doesn't matter."

"But Booth..." she started tentatively.

"No buts Bones! I am not talking about this with my 16 year old son!" He wrenched away from her and started towards the back door.

"Where are you going? " She called to his back.

He didn't stop walking, "to punch something"

Brennan sighed. She wasn't surprised that it had come to this. Parker had asking questions all week, and Booth had been growing increasingly agitated with his sons curiosity. They'd had many talks after the kids had gone to bed. She had been favoring some disclosure, knowing that Parker could be as stubborn as his father, but he was adamant there was no reason to discuss what had triggered Kovac. She put the kettle on and grabbed the latest anthropology journal. She'd been planning on working on book revisions, but knew there was no point, she'd be distracted until Booth came back in and father and son were speaking again.

About 20 minutes later, Parker emerged from his room.

"Hey Bones. " He looked around the kitchen. "Dad leave?"

"He's out back. Taking out his frustrations on the bag. "

"Oh, " he replied sheepishly. "Guess I really pissed him off. " He sighed, "I didn't mean to. I just got mad that he still treats me like a little kid, you know?"

"Parker, it's not your age. He's just trying to protect you. It's what he does. It's what he's always done. You know that. "

"I get it. But if it's really over with like he keeps saying it is, what's there to protect me from? "

"It IS over. There's no threat to our family." Bones assured him.

"Then what? The truth? Isn't that what you guys are always telling me is important? Isn't that why you do what you do? To find the truth?"

"Yes. But it's complicated in this case." She hesitated, unsure of how much she should say, "it brings up things in your father's past that he'd rather forget. "

Parker opened his mouth to argue and then her words sunk in. "Bugger. And I just reminded him. "

"What did you say?" She asked, tentatively hoping that the damage wasn't too great.

He hung his head, "That I figured out he'd been the one to kill Radik. I was right wasn't I?"

"Yes."

Parker slowly exhaled, "So, what do I do now?"

Ten minutes later Parker headed out to the back yard, and the corner where the heavy bag hung. He'd been expecting to find his dad wailing on it, but evidently the fury had passed. Booth was sitting on the bench, t-shirt damp with perspiration, elbows on knees, hands fiddling with his poker chip, staring at the ground still breathing a little heavily.

"Hey Dad. " he said softly and waited for Booth to look up. He raised his hands, "Can we talk?"

"Yeah. What's all this?" he nodded his head towards the bag Parker was holding.

"Ah. Supplies. Bones said we aren't allowed back into the house until we can promise to be quiet. If we wake Hank up, and I quote, she'll make sure they never find our bodies." Encouraged by his dad's small grin he opened the bag and started removing the contents. "Sweatshirt - so you don't get chilled and an ice pack, because she was worried about your wrist."

Booth grabbed the bag and wrapped it around his hand.

"Um, Dad. Isn't that the wrong hand?"

"Nah. First punch with the right hand told me that was a bad idea. There wasn't a second. But I may have overdone it with the left." At his son's anxious glance he added, "It's fine. This way I can honestly tell Bones I iced my hand and spare her the trouble of giving me a lecture on the anti-inflammatory effects on cold as it relates to physiological responses in the body."

Parker grinned, glad his dad hadn't hurt himself further. Digging back into the bag he continued, "Tortilla chips. Because the sharing of food has an anthropological significance in peace making rituals. Salsa, no anthropology there, it just makes the chips taste better. Beers, since there is another long, complicated anthropological reason for men in our culture to share an alcoholic beverage as a binding social contract, and a bottle opener. " He popped the caps off, handing one to his dad.

Booth raised his eyebrows, "You know, this isn't England, technically you're not supposed be drinking that here. "

"She said you'd say that. " It was hard to see in the dim light but it looked to Booth like his son was blushing. "Um, she told me to remind you you've had premarital sex in Virginia. And really Dad I don't want to know what the anthropological significance of THAT is. Geez. Talk about TMI."

Booth chuckled. "That's a reminder that sometimes it's okay to bend the law a little bit." He took a long drag from the bottle, and then started fidgeting with the label. Finally he said quietly, "So I'm sorry that I yelled at you earlier. "

"I'm sorry I yelled too dad. I wasn't trying to piss you off. I was trying to understand so I don't know, maybe I could help. You've been a little freaked out. I mean, you've had reason to be, but," he shrugged and took a sip of the beer.

Booth started to protest and then realized his son was right. It was improving, but he was still on edge. He just thought he was hiding it better. He sighed, "That obvious huh?"

"Just a little. The Inquisition when I went to Ty's was a bit over the top."

"Sorry about that too. I'm working on it, I guess I just need a little more time." He began picking at the edge of the beer label, "I appreciate that you are only trying to help, but, you gotta back off on this one Parker. There is nothing you can do." More fidgeting and then "It's not that I don't recognize you're not a kid anymore. But, you're also old enough to understand that there are things that I've done that I don't want to talk about. Not just with you, with anyone." He looked up at his son, hoping he understood.

"I get it Dad, and I'll stop asking you." He hesitated, wondering if he should offer up his next thought or just leave well enough alone. No, his dad needed to know. "But, I'm not going to stop trying to find my own answers. " He could see Booth's expression darkening, "I know. Your house, your rules, but are you seriously going to tell me to stop reading the news?"

Booth sighed, "I really want to say yes, you know? " He rubbed the back of his neck, "Parenting was so much easier when I could just send you to your room."

"Well, you can still send me to my room, but I don't think it's going to work." There was a touch of defiance in his tone. Trying to diffuse it, he added lightly, "You'd have to turn off the house wifi and Christine would have it back up and running in 5 minutes."

That got a snort from the senior Booth. They sat in silence for a while, both contemplating what the other had said and fighting their internal battles. Parker warring between asserting his independence and the recognition that the reality his dad was trying to protect him from was truly awful. Did he want to cross that line? Booth knowing that the time had long passed for him to truly shield his son - the teen had access to video games that allowed him to see through the eyes of a soldier, movies that showed war in graphic detail, books written by former snipers, the list went on. Since he would not subject himself to any of it, he couldn't refute the accuracy. Did he want Parker to learn about such things only through the eyes of others? Damnit. Sweets' voice popped into his head, "you know what you need to do Agent Booth."

Steeling himself with a long pull on the bottle, "So what have you figured out?"

Parker was startled out of his thoughts, he wasn't expecting his dad to bend on this. "Well, from the news reports, Radik was a Serbian general whose speciality was ethnic cleansing. He was killed by an unknown assassin at a family gathering. Kovac was 6 years old, his sister was just a baby. He grew up to be a sadistic serial killer, who was eventually caught by the combined efforts of the FBI and the Jeffersonian. When he escaped from jail he retaliated by blowing up the Jeffersonian. " He paused, "those are the facts, but they aren't necessarily the truth right?"

"Right. So what do YOU think happened?"

"Your unit was the one the one who took out Radik. " At his father's sharp intake of breath, "Come on Dad. I know that Rangers don't get deployed around the world to talk to people. Kovac targeted the unit until he figured out you would have been the one to take the shot. Then it got personal. "

"Ok, you filled in all the blanks correctly. Now can you stop?" Booth struggled to keep his tone neutral.

Parker thought about it. "I'm not sure, Dad."

"Why not? What's left to know?"

Parker paused, trying to find the right words, "It's hard to explain. But, I get the feeling that you didn't blame him. Like you feel like you deserved it or something. The only reason you got pissed at him was he went after people you loved." He paused and took a long drink, fortifying himself, and then looked straight at his dad, "And I guess it scares me to think what would have happened if he had just targeted you. "

Booth was stunned, both by the observation and by the realization that his son was partially correct. He pondered his response, "Parker. You're right, but it's not just Kovac. I'll always be more pissed if somebody targets my family over me. That's the way I'm wired. But, I can promise you that I would have fought back. For you, for Christine and Hank, for Bones. Okay? " He waited for a nod than continued, "and it wasn't that I thought I deserved it. It was more that I could understand Kovac's reason for targeting me. " He swallowed hard, "He saw his dad die. That's something no kid should have to see."

With that it finally clicked with Parker. Why his Dad was so upset. It wasn't that he'd killed a man. Parker would never ask for a total, but he knew that the general wasn't the first or last. It didn't matter that the general was a monster. It was that it had been witnessed. His dad lived with that memory daily, and it couldn't be changed or fixed. He wondered if there were others. God he hoped not. But he knew he wasn't going to try and find out. He stared at Booth, not sure what to say, hoping that he'd get it right, "It's not something any soldier should have had to do either. I'm sorry Dad.

Booth nodded, "Thanks Parker."


	8. Remembering Max

The next morning, his last full day in DC before returning to the UK, Parker awoke to an empty house and a note in his Dad's familiar scrawl, " _Back around 10 to do whatever you want_."

He smiled, glanced at the clock and then hurried to shower and get changed. He was just finishing a bowl of cereal from his dad's "secret" stash when the agent returned.

"Hey bud."

"Hey Dad, by the way you are out of Cocoa Puffs. "

"Dang it!" Booth shook his head, "I knew I needed to hide those better. Oh well. So, what's the plan for the day?"

"Couple of things I can't get in London - good pizza and batting cages. "

"Sounds good." Booth looked at his eldest, who was wearing khakis and a button down, "So, aren't you a little overdressed?"

Parker shifted uncomfortably, not sure if his request was going to upset his father, "Well, there's something else I'd like to do first."

"Anything."

"I'd like to go to the cemetery. To pay my respects to Grandpa Max." At his father's stunned look he added quickly, "if that's okay, it's just since I didn't get to come over for his funeral, and well, I miss him. "

Booth wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it. But then it made sense, it was another tradition he'd passed to his son. "Yeah, sure. Let me go grab some stuff, we can change at the cages."

"Thanks Dad. Uh, one more thing, can we make a stop at the store on the way?"

"Yeah, we can pick up some flowers for Bones' mom. Max is buried next to her. "

At the store, Booth waited in the car while Parker went in to make a purchase. The teen came out with a bunch of flowers and a small paper bag. Booth was curious as to the contents but figured it would be revealed soon.

At the cemetery Booth pointed Parker in the right direction and then hung back to give the teen his privacy.

Parker placed the flowers on the grave, and then stood back, bag in hand.

"Hi Grandpa. Um, just wanted to come by and say thanks. Dad's told me what you did. You saved Christine and Hank, and, " he swallowed, "you saved Dad and Bones and me too. I don't even want to think about what life would be like if something had happened to them." After the discussion last night, he'd come to the conclusion that his Dad would have never forgiven himself had one of his kids been hurt or worse because of what had happened in Bosnia. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, "I'm sorry that you didn't make it though. I miss you. " He took a deep breath, "School is going pretty good. Still playing hockey and rugby. I'm acing chemistry. " He smiled at that, "Thought you should know that, since you were one of the first people to teach me that science was cool. So, I brought you something." He pulled the items out of the bag and left them on the headstone. Then he bowed his head in prayer. When finished, he made the sign of the cross and turned to find Booth walking toward him.

Father put his arm around his son's shoulders and gave a short laugh at the sight of a roll of Mentos and a small bottle of diet coke on the grave.

"Is that okay Dad?" Parker asked somewhat anxiously.

"It's perfect Parker." He grinned, remembering, "You probably didn't notice it that day, but I was watching both of you. When that fountain went up, I don't know who had the bigger smile - you watching the soda, or Max watching you. He was so proud when you started to like science."

They stood in silence for a moment thinking about the good times.

As they headed back to the car, Booth turned, "Hey Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think Max ever got around to showing Christine about disruptions in surface tension. Maybe you can show her after dinner."

He watched the grin spread across his son's face, "That would be awesome!"


	9. Celebrating Max

A/N This wasn't originally in my plan, but the review from **kareneb** got me thinking. Thanks for the prompt!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The visit to the cemetery had sparked conversations between father and son. Because of the circumstances of Max's death, Parker had been avoiding talking about his grandfather to avoid upsetting his father. But on the drive to the batting cages and in between swings, Booth encouraged his son to share memories and both arrived at the pizza parlor missing Max but grateful that they had so many good times with him. While happily munching on a meat lovers special they formulated a plan.

So Brennan arrived home with Christine and Hank to a home that smelled wonderfully of dinner and a husband who rushed to great them from the backyard while telling them to not go back there.

"What's going on Booth?"

"It's a surprise, Bones" he said, taking Hank from her arms while simultaneously angling his body to block her view of the back yard.

Christine was also trying to peer past, "Where's Parker Daddy?"

"He's finishing something up, you'll see it after dinner pumpkin, go get changed into some play clothes okay?"

The little girl pouted a bit, then recognized that it wasn't going to get her anywhere and headed off to her room.

Bones turned to Booth, "I thought we were going out tonight. It's Parker's last night here, so usually we have a farewell dinner."

Booth had a sudden panic, hoping that what he was about to say wouldn't upset her, it had seemed like a good idea over pizza, but now he was struck with uncertainty. "Well Bones, Parker wanted to go the cemetery today, to see Max. And then we got to talking and one thing led to another, and we kind of decided to celebrate Max."

"Celebrate?" She was puzzled and a little surprised at their earlier activities. While over the years, she had begun to accept Booth's rituals involving the dead, and had even begun to find comfort in visiting her mother's grave, it still didn't come naturally to her. She had not been to the cemetery since Max's burial.

"Yeah, " he shifted uncomfortably and added softly, "you know, do some things that reminded us of the good times with your Dad. Parker didn't get to come to the funeral and I guess he kind of needs to do a send off. So, we have Max's famous lasagna in the oven, although I had to fudge it a little bit since I didn't have time to do the sauce completely from scratch, and then a couple of other things. " Seeing her wary expression, "Trust me. It will be a good night."

She wasn't totally convinced, but reminded herself that it was their last night with Parker for a few months so, she would go along with it, "Okay"

Booth knew she had doubts but was relieved that she hadn't out right vetoed their plans. While they had come a long ways since those first days after Max died, she still had a moments of grief when she tried to retreat back into the realm of super rationality. He kissed her, "Good. Now go put on something grubby and I'll pour you a glass of wine."

She raised her eyebrows at the something grubby remark but did as she was told.

During dinner Christine filled them in with tales of her school day, Brennan had updates from the lab restoration - at some point Hodgins wanted Booth to call him and get some opinions on security issues, and they talked about the family photo Cam and Arastoo had sent them - the couple were now down in Mississippi meeting their three sons. The plan was to live down there for the rest of the school year and then head back to DC.

When dinner was finished Christine turned to her father and brother, impatiently, "NOW can we have the surprise?"

"But monkey, we have to clear the table, load the dishes, wash the pans, and re-alphabetize all the spices that I pulled out while cooking." Booth teased.

Christine put on her best pout, "DADDY!"

"Okay, okay, lets at least get the top layer of tomato sauce off of Hank. " He grabbed a wash cloth and wiped down the toddler's face and arms, "Parker? You all set up?"

"Yep."

"Okay lead the way."

The family headed out the back yard where Christine was delighted to find a small inflatable kiddie pool, but puzzled to see the bottle of diet soda in it. "Parker, why would we fill the pool with soda? That's just icky! "

"I think you'll like this monkey." He undid some tape on a string and backed away from the pool holding the string. "Come here and take this, but don't let go until I tell you okay?" She reached for it. "Got it?" He waited for her to nod and then removed his had. "Okay, now let's count to three, ready Hank? One, two, three!"

Christine let go and the three of them watched the soda fountain erupt while their parents watched them. The little girl squealed with delight while the toddler jumped up and down, clapping.

"MOMMY! DADDY! Did you see THAT? How'd you do that Parker? Can we do it again? Why'd the soda come out that way?" Christine was firing off questions faster than any of them could answer. Finally she took a breath and allowed Parker to explain that Grandpa Max had shown him this and when she'd let go of the string she'd dropped mint candies into the soda which disrupted the surface tension and the carbon dioxide in the drink interacted with the pits in the candy coating. To Christine's delight, there were two more bottles of soda and she got to answer her question as to whether adding more candy made for a higher fountain (yes). The higher fountain did result in all three kids getting splattered with soda though.

Booth grabbed the hose to rinse the kids off while Bones went into the house to grab some towels. When he went to turn the water off, Hank grabbed the hose and started dancing with it, spraying his siblings in the process.

"Hank! " Parker shouted, as Christine yelled, "Daddy! Hank's spraying us."

"Relax guys, it's just water. Hank, hand me the hose."

Booth regretted his choice of words since he hadn't turned the water off yet. So, when the toddler complied with his Daddy's request, he sprayed Booth as well, which resulted in Parker saying calmly, "Relax Dad, it's just water." Seeing the teasing look in his son's eyes, Booth turned the hose on his eldest.

"Oh this is war Dad! Come on Chrissie, Hank, we can take him. " The three of them charged their father trying to gain control of the hose, getting sprayed in the process. Brennan came out in the middle of the battle and noted where Booth had taken up his defensive position. He was too occupied to notice her return until the sprinkler system turned on, scoring a direct hit on his butt.

"What the ?" The expletive was censored as the family burst into giggles. Booth turned to his wife, "You've done it now Bones. Hank, I think Mommy needs a hug, RIGHT NOW!. " As the toddler ran towards his mother, Booth directed Parker and Christine towards the center and right while he took the left, making a wide arc so that she was forced to keep turning to keep him in her sight. Eventually he managed to grab her from behind, enveloping her in a wet embrace.

"Booth!" She was laughing, and trying to smack his arms away. As she felt his embrace tighten and starting to lift her off the ground, "DON'T YOU DARE. " He was daring, so she tried logic, "You'll hurt your back, and I won't fix it for you."

"You're right, Bones. Parker, grab her feet."

There was halfhearted struggling as father and son carried her out to the lawn and deposited her gently over a sprinkler, accompanied by the laughter of the two youngest.

"Booth, help me up. " She raised her hand.

"Uh-uh Bones. I didn't marry you yesterday. You're just looking for a chance to drop me on my ass."

She pouted, and then asked innocently, "Now would I do a thing like that?"

"Yes." He didn't doubt that for a second.

Okay, he had a point. "I promise, I won't pull you down."

He looked at her suspiciously and then walked over to her. Keeping his hand just out of her reach, "You promised." She nodded, so he reached down and helped her up, bracing for the double cross. She stood in the sprinkler holding his hand for a moment and then shouted, "Tag! You're it" and ran away laughing at his stunned expression.

And then he was off, chasing his giggling daughter. The five of them playing tag and running through the sprinklers until they were all soaked and exhausted from running and laughing.

Wrapped in towels the family sat down around the gas fire pit and munched happily on cookies and cream soda milkshakes. After a while the damp clothes started to become a little uncomfortable so Booth and Brennan took the younger kids in while Parker finished cleaning up the soda mess outside. Brennan was in the kitchen finishing the dishes when Parker came in.

"Hey, we're all just going straight into pajamas. Go ahead and throw your wet clothes in the washer, we'll do a load so you can pack them in the morning. "

"Thanks Bones. Wasn't expecting water tag." Parker smiled, "But it WAS fun."

Brennan laughed, the mischievous grin on his face was exactly like his father's. "It was. " She paused, remembering, "You know, the day that my dad did that experiment with you? I had fired him from the lab."

"Why?"

"Oh, I had all sorts of logical reasons." She smiled, "And Sweets had all sorts of psychological reasons that I was doing it. But in the end it didn't really matter, because your dad manipulated me into not doing it."

"How?" Parker was genuinely curious, his mom often said that his dad could charm a snake out of its hole, but, his step mother once she made up her mind about something was pretty rigid about following through.

"We had just finished a case at a well regarded private school. Your dad was feeling inadequate because he couldn't afford to send you some place like that, and I had pointed out that he lacked the scientific knowledge to help you outside the class room. " Parker smiled at her usual blunt assessment but couldn't help to think that the comment had probably stung his dad at the time. She continued, "He acknowledged that I was correct. He couldn't do it, but my dad could. " She paused, remembering, "He asked me to let Dad stay on as a personal favor to him. And then, he added the Booth puppy dog eyes and charm smile." She sighed, seemingly still exasperated after all these years, "I had no choice."

Parker had to hide his grin, "Well, I'm glad he did. Getting to do the after school program with Max was the best. And even when it ended, he still kept it up with me."

"He did?"

"Yeah. When they stopped the program while you were in Mala-cuck-coo and Dad was in Afghanistan, he still picked me up from school twice a month. " He shrugged, "sometimes we'd do science stuff, sometimes we'd go to the museums, sometimes we'd just go have a milk shake at the diner. I guess he knew how much I missed Dad and hanging out at the lab, so he tried to help. "

Brennan was so surprised by the revelation she forgot to correct him on Maluku, "He never told me." This was said so softly, Parker almost missed it.

Now Parker was surprised, "Dad knew. He and I talked about it in our video chats, and in emails and letters. The mobile that I built for Christine when she was a baby? " Tempe nodded, "Max and I built one while you guys were gone for my room. " Leaving her lost in thought he headed down to his room to get out of his damp clothes.

Later that night, after the lights were out Booth asked softly, "Are you okay Bones? You've been a little quiet tonight."

She snuggled next to him and turned her back waiting for his arm to come around her. Cradling his hand in hers she replied, "Just thinking. "

She could feel his smile on the back of her neck, "That's shocking. What about?"

"Parker told me that he and Dad spent quite a bit of time together when I was in Indonesia. It was nice to hear, but, I guess I'm a little sad that Hank won't have any memories of his grandfather."

"Not directly, no, but, he'll remember Max." It was said with quiet confidence.

"That makes no sense Booth."

He stubbornly declared, "Yes. It does. Tonight? I guarantee you that in 25 years or so Christine will show her kids the experiment, and maybe they'll play tag in the sprinklers, maybe they won't. But, her kids will call their Uncle Parker and tell him what they did, and then he and Christine will laugh about this night. And Parker will hang up the phone and call Hank, just to say hi and he'll tell him that he heard from Christine and why. And even though Hank won't remember tonight, he'll know the story of it, and when he and Parker get done talking, Hank will suddenly get the urge for snickerdoodles and a grandpa milkshake. " He kissed her hair, "And while he's eating them, he'll raise the bottle of cream soda and toast his grandfather. And he'll smile."

Whether it happened or not, it was a nice thought. Still, she couldn't let him think he won, not just yet, anyway, "So you can see into the future? And why won't the kids call us?"

"Ah, they'll want to Bones, but it won't be convenient. We'll be on the other side of the world, you'll be giving a lecture at some stuffy academic hall. "

She squeezed his hand, amused, "And where will you be?"

He whispered in her ear, "I'll be waiting for you in our suite at the hotel, reading your latest best seller." He kissed the spot behind her ear that always made her sigh, "it will be interesting to see how Agent Andy manages to disarm the bad guys with his cane, but I'm sure you'll manage."

Laughing softly, she turned to face him. "You're impossible."

"Yes, but you love me anyway. "

And she had to concede that he was right.


	10. Career Counseling

Parker and Booth were on day 3 of their 7 day summer camping trip in Shenandoah and Booth was concerned. His son wasn't saying much. The first day, he'd put it down to jet lag - Parker had only flown in the day before they left, the second day they had done a long 16 mile hike so after dinner they had pretty much crawled into their bags and slept, but this third day had been a relatively easy 6 mile hike to a fishing hole with little elevation change so fatigue should not be a factor. During the hike, the teen had seemed engaged, pointing out scenery and plants, so Booth THOUGHT his son was enjoying himself, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

Over 'smores Booth ran out of small talk about the Phillies, "Parker, is there something wrong? "

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You've been kinda quiet. You know, this is your vacation too, so if you're not having a good time we can cut out early.

"Dad, relax, the trip is good."

"Okay, " Booth was unconvinced, "if you're sure. You know, if something's bothering you, we've got plenty of time to talk."

"Thanks, but I'm fine."

Booth doubted it, but he was reluctant to use his interrogation skills on his son. He'd save that for really important stuff, not just teenage moodiness. Also, there were no electronic distractions here, it was a couple of hours before either of them would be ready for sleeping, and Parker wasn't too into the book he'd brought. Boredom would get the better of the kid soon. He pulled out his knife and started whittling.

Twenty minutes later Parker cracked, "Dad, when you were my age, did you have any clue that you'd become an FBI agent?"

Booth chuckled, "Um, no."

"What did you think you were going to do?"

He thought about it, "I dunno. Guess a mechanic or carpenter, maybe going into the army. I kinda didn't have a plan Parker."

"You weren't thinking about university at ALL?" Parker had it drilled into him since pre-school that he was going to college, and while he knew now that his dad's childhood was definitely a different world, it still shocked him at times.

Booth got the connection, "Ah, stressing out about which A-levels to take?"

Parker sighed, "Yeah. Seems like everybody had an opinion on them. " He paused, thinking, "why haven't you weighed in on them yet?"

"Well, I figured out talking to your mom and Bones that you are probably getting all sorts of advice," Booth said chuckling, " there are a LOT of people in your life that are way more qualified in academics than I am, and you've got a pretty good head on your shoulders when it comes to school, so, I thought I'd stay out of it unless you asked me." Booth shrugged, "I'm happy to listen though. "

Parker smiled, relieved, part of the reason he hadn't been talking about it was he really didn't want one more voice in his head, he already had too many. "Thanks Dad. " He sat in silence for a minute, his curiosity peaked, "You seriously weren't thinking about college when you were sixteen? Why not?"

Crap, Booth thought, how did this turn around to a discussion about HIS academic career? "Well, I wasn't a particularly good student in elementary school, we moved a lot, and it seemed like they were always trying to teach me something that I'd already learned or expected me to know something I'd never been taught. And then, sometimes, what was going on at home, left me, um, distracted. " He left it at that, not going to volunteer that the distractions were usually he was hungry because his dad had been too drunk to go to the grocery store or there was no money left to buy food after a bender. Or it was painful to sit still. "After we moved in with Pops and Grandma, I started doing better. " He caught Parker's unasked question, "I didn't stand a chance against the combination of Sister Mary Margaret and Grandma."

At the thought of his dad being tag teamed by a nun and a little old lady Parker had to snort, "What did they do?"

Booth grinned, "Hours with flashcards, a summer reading list and a lot of lectures aimed at convincing me that I wasn't dumb."

Parker was stunned, he knew his dad was pretty self-deprecating about his intelligence, which was understandable given the people he worked with, but he had never really thought that his father had believed it. "Really? You thought you were dumb?"

"Yeah, well, you have understand that my dad wasn't really big on self-esteem, " Booth thought darkly, that was an understatement, often times his dad would scream how much better his life would be if hadn't been stuck with blubbering idiots, and that was when he was in a good mood. He shook his head slightly to clear it, "and mom leaving didn't exactly boost it. Throw in the less than stellar report cards, it was pretty easy to believe."

Parker felt his gut clench, even though he knew the basics of his dad's past, he had a hard time reconciling the matter of fact way some totally awful things were occasionally revealed. Of course, having your mom leave you with an abusive alcoholic wouldn't make a kid feel secure, "So, you and the dynamic duo did all that work, and you ended up with a basketball scholarship, how come you still didn't have a plan?"

Booth rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort, "When Grandma died my freshman year, I kind of lost some of my momentum academically, and I didn't make varsity until my junior year, I hadn't played organized sports before Dad left, just pick up stuff, and it took a while for me to learn the game and get my growth spurt, so colleges didn't show an interest until pretty late. I was as shocked as anyone when I got the offer. "

"So you headed off to college without a clue as to what you wanted to major in?"

"Yeah. Since I hadn't really thought about a career I knocked off most of my general education classes hoping that something would click and enlighten me as to what I should be when I grew up. " Booth shrugged, "Then I blew out my shoulder in practice and lost the scholarship sophomore year. Since I still didn't have a clue I decided to go into the army rather than pay tuition while I figured it out. "

"Okay, but how'd you get from the army to the FBI?"

"Well, when I was in the hospital recovering after I was rescued, the shrink made us think about what we'd do if we couldn't go back to our units. " Booth gave a bitter laugh, "you know, part of the military recruitment spiel is you'll learn vocational skills. I couldn't figure out where in civilian life they could use a potentially gimpy sniper. So, I took one of those aptitude tests. Out of all the options they suggested, law enforcement was the one that interested me the most, so I started looking at the criminal justice requirements figuring that if I couldn't physically become a cop, it would be an entry to law school or something else in the field."

Parker was shaking his head in disbelief, "You picked your career from aptitude test results?"

"Yeah, why do you find that so hard to believe?"

"Because they had us take them too."

"So, what did yours come back with?"

"Like 57 different things - journalism, law, architecture, computers, science, psychology, " Parker sighed, "pretty much everything but a musician."

Booth laughed, "I'm afraid you inherited my talents there. Sorry bud."

"It's okay Dad. At least that's one option off the list," he said so glumly that Booth had to hide a smile. It would not go over well if his son thought he wasn't sympathetic to his dilemma.

And Booth was sympathetic, at least sort of. But, he couldn't really wrap his head around the idea that being interested and good at too many things was a terrible problem to have. "You know, Parker, you don't have to have it figured out now. Most of the folks I know didn't end up where they thought they would."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Cam was going to be cop, Hodgins rebelled against his family business but still thought he just wanted to study bugs and slime, he didn't anticipate the forensics side of things. Angela never thought she'd be drawing faces from skulls instead of live people. They all started out doing one thing and ended up finding something they liked better. Even Bones didn't plan on writing novels. You're allowed to not have firm plans. " Catching his son's incredulous expression, he added, "no matter what Grandpa Stinson says."

Parker lowered his voice and did a pretty good impression of Rebecca's dad, "You need to focus on your future, set goals and not be distracted."

Booth grinned, "You nailed him. " But, part of him was pissed too, because he knew what a hard ass Rebecca's dad could be. "And if I thought you were thinking about spending the next 10 years partying, yeah, I'd be saying the same thing, but, you've got a good work ethic and once you make a decision you follow through, so when you figure out what you want to do, you'll do it. And you know what else? One of things that I've always thought was pretty cool about you is that you were the 'and' kid.

"The AND kid? Sorry dad, I'm gonna have to do a Bones, I don't know what that means."

Booth chuckled. "When you were in kindergarten you wanted to be an FBI agent. Once you started meeting the squints you were going to be an anthropologist AND an entomologist AND build robots AND program computers AND be a dinosaur expert AND do face painting AND whatever other cool thing you had discovered that day. It never occurred to you to choose just one. "

Parker was still confused, "Isn't that pretty common with little kids? Didn't you do it?"

"I don't remember," Booth said softly which was a lie, he did remember a year or so after his mom left, being asked to write an essay about what he wanted to be when he grew up. He made something up, because at that point he just focused on getting through each day, the idea of dealing with his dad for the years it would take to get through high school was too depressing to contemplate. Booth willed the memory away, he didn't want to divert his son's attention and get pulled into a discussion about his childhood.

Parker was pretty sure that his dad wasn't telling him the whole truth, but the last couple of years had taught him there were usually pretty damn good reasons to avoid about certain topics. Besides, he was enjoying the idea that he had one person that wasn't demanding a life plan from him. Even if he was still freaking out about not having a life plan.

"The other thing is Parker, nothing is set in stone. I mean look at Wendell - the cancer threw him for a loop and then he decided to change course. And you know, Bones and I left our jobs for a while and then decided to go back again. "

"You ever think about leaving again Dad? I mean you guys have had a pretty intense year, and I know Bones is taking a break until the Jeffersonian is re-built. "

"Sometimes," Booth admitted, "and I'll probably have to make some choices soon, as Aubrey frequently reminds me the Bureau doesn't issue walkers."

"And you let him get away with it?" Parker grinned.

"Occasionally. Other times he loses a sandwich when he makes an age crack. " Booth gave a wicked grin, "I try and keep him guessing."

Parker laughed, knowing that hit the junior agent where it hurt, "Harsh Dad!" He thought for a moment, "So, any ideas of what you're going to do?"

Booth shrugged. "When the time comes, something will pop up. "

"Um, no offense Dad, but you just contradicted about 10 guidance counselors advice. You know, planning for success and all that."

"Maybe, but, what's the saying, if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans? I don't know Parker, but, in my experience, things have a way of working out, if you're able to adapt to what's thrown at you. " At Parker's raised eyebrows, he continued, "the way I figure it, I don't blow out the shoulder, I keep the scholarship and end up in a completely different life - maybe it's better than the one I got now, but I doubt it. At that point I wasn't thinking about much beyond basketball and I probably wasn't going to make the pros-I wasn't talented enough to compensate for my lack of size. So I'd leave with a degree in something easy and probably not something I was really interested in. When I joined the army, I didn't have an exit plan. Without the hospital stay, I wouldn't have finished college. With no degree to fall back on, maybe I stay in the army, and there aren't too many Rangers that get out unscathed either physically or mentally. Which, comparatively, I managed to do. I mean don't get me wrong, the process kinds of sucked, but can't argue with the results. And I really hope that YOU get an easier go of it, but, for now, study what interests you and forget about trying to have your life all mapped out. "

Parker still looked unconvinced. Trying to improve his son's mood, Booth offered, only half joking, "Tell you what, if two years down the road you still have worries we can go through career counseling together, the timing should be right for me too. " At his son's wry grin, he added, "In the meantime, we just keep talking whenever you need to okay?"

Parker raised his water bottle in a toast, "Sounds like a plan Dad."


	11. Hard Case

It was 3am Saturday morning and Booth was pacing through the living room of the otherwise sleeping household. It had been two days since they had closed their latest case which had been horrific even by their standards. The call had come in 8 days ago, four bodies burned beyond recognition after a suspected propane tank explosion at the house, two of them with gunshot wounds. Given the condition of the bodies, the Jeffersonian was immediately dispatched. Since Aubrey was on vacation, Booth took the call. The gunshot victims were identified as Colby and Reeves, best friends from childhood, who had joined the Marine corps together and served two tours in Afghanistan. The other two victims, Colby's high school sweetheart wife and 6 year old son, had been suffocated. Both the Colbys were survived by parents and a brother, Reeves left behind parents, an ex-wife and ten year old girl. When he closed his eyes he could still the shattered expression on the kid's face when she learned her daddy wasn't coming home.

Cases with kids were always tough on the team, and now that they were all parents it was even harder. It seemed to Booth that they had spent the first part of the investigation taking turns having mini breakdowns. Aubrey, returning from vacation on the third day, offered to take it over after seeing the toll it was taking on his mentor but Booth has been unwilling to let it go. Initially based on witness statements and tire impressions an intruder had been suspected. But after tracking him down it was determined that he was a mutual friend who had seen the first body and fled and the propane tank had exploded shortly thereafter. By that time the occupants had already been dead for a day. In the meantime, the evidence on the victims also being the perpetrators kept mounting. Colby's wife was having an affair with Reeves and the explosion was a result of a combo of bad wiring and meth making chemicals in the house. The fleeing friend was also a client, hence his failure to report the bodies, he figured that eventually they would be reported missing. Booth had been desperate to find alternative explanations grasping at increasingly shorter straws and testing the patience of the squints until he'd finally conceded that one or both of the Marines had killed the woman and child, and then they had shot each other.

Unfortunately, the team had failed to definitely prove which Marine was responsible for the deaths of Colby's family. Or which Marine had fired first. The Angelatron had come up with two scenarios, the Colby firing at Reeves one was slightly more probable, but an argument could be made either way. The families refused to believe the meth involvement, denying it with such vehemence that Booth had to review the evidence multiple times to convince himself. They also refused to believe that the best friends could kill each other or that either of the Marines was capable of murdering a child, particularly one they had loved. Screaming denials and accusations were hurled, decades long friendships destroyed, and Booth was unable to provide a single damn reason why. It was senseless.

There were just too many things about this one that haunted him. He looked at pictures of Colby's family and saw his own. He could identify parallels in his life with both the perpetrator and the victim, even if he didn't know which was which. The horrors of war, the attempts to banish the memories that led to addiction, the addiction that consumed every aspect of your life until there was no room for anything else. The combination of factors had brought his demons out in full force and it was taking every coping mechanism he'd learned over the years to hold them at bay. So far in the battle he was only holding the line. Intense workouts exhausted his body, but his mind either didn't let him drift off to sleep or woke him in the middle of a nightmare. Extra GA meetings were keeping him sober, but he still felt like he was one little nudge from falling off the cliff. He'd gone to mass yesterday and found some peace in the ritual but the serenity had not made it out of the parking lot with him.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, he recognized that something had to give. His feet and back were aching from the excessive running, his knuckles bruised from pounding on the heavy bag. Between the extra exercise and his lack of appetite he was down five pounds. He desperately wanted to get drunk, just to forget for a while, but was terrified that losing control would find him in a pool hall. Instead, he was drinking glass after glass of milk trying to combat the excessive stomach acid his over stressed system was generating. He hadn't managed more than 3 hours of sleep at a time. He felt like a live grenade. He knew he had people who loved him and wanted to help, but, he did not want anyone in the blast zone with him.

The computer beeped, interrupting his pacing. He looked at the clock and frowned, calls in the middle of the night were never a good thing.

"Hey Dad!" Parker's face appeared on the screen.

"Hi bud. What's going on?" Booth studied his son with concern.

"Had a few minutes before heading out to hockey practice. Since it's been a while since we talked, thought I'd take a chance and see if you were up. Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, " Booth said it automatically.

"You sure Dad? You don't look so hot."

"I'm fine Parker, " Booth said a little more forcefully, willing himself and his son to believe it.

"Okay, " the teen said skeptically, "I'll ignore the fact that it's 3:30 in the morning there and I didn't wake you, plus I haven't heard from you since the 'verify the kids are okay' call."

"What do you mean? We've talked." Booth snapped, he did not need an absentee father guilt trip on top of everything else.

"We've texted, Dad." Parker said gently, "we haven't actually talked in over a week. And it's okay. I know you've been busy with a crap case. Did you catch the bad guys?"

Booth sighed, "Sort of. The bad guys caught each other. " Then his foggy brain caught up with Parker's comments. "How'd you know it was a hard case?"

"Dad, " Parker might as well as said 'duh' the implication was the same, "I've been your son for 17 years. I've caught on to the need to know the kid's ok call. It only comes when you have a tough one. Am I wrong?"

"No, " Booth rubbed his face, "but we closed it Thursday afternoon."

"Really? Then you're a little late with the 'let me remind myself why I do this job' follow up."

Booth was stunned, "What?" His son was right, that was usually part of his coping process, but he hadn't done it because, well, live grenade. What he hadn't realized was that Parker KNEW about it.

"The follow up. You know, now that I'm on the other side of the pond it's a phone call. But, when I was little you'd come over and watch me sleep, or talk mom into letting you take me out to ice cream before dinner on a school night, or something else out of the ordinary."

"Wait a minute, how did you know I'd come over? You were asleep."

Parker grinned, "Not always. I think the first time I was about five or six. I told Mom I had a dream that you were in my room, but it was weird because you were on crutches. Mom told me it wasn't a dream, that you'd come over the night before, and that you had burned your leg but you were okay. I was mad because you hadn't woken me up. Mom explained that sometimes when the bad guys were really awful you just needed to see me to make you feel better. I think there was more discussion about the merits of little boys needing sleep vs. the healing properties of hugs. Anyway, I know there were some other times I'd dream that you were watching me sleep and Mom would verify that you had come by. "

Booth snorted, "So much for my stealth training."

"I just had excellent Dad radar," countered Parker smiling.

Booth was lost in thought and didn't catch the smile. He wondered what else his kids had picked up or were picking up on. How much was he screwing them up? He thought carefully before asking, "Parker, did that freak you out?"

Parker pondered his response, "Nah, Dad it was cool. Actually kind of made me feel good that I was helping you fight crime in some way, even if I wasn't actually doing anything. Like you were Batman and I was Robin."

Booth did smile at that, "Really?"

"Yeah Dad, really. " He saw that his dad looked unconvinced, "You know, I think your job freaks me out more now than it ever did when I was little. Whenever you got hurt it would scare me, but you always brushed it off as no big deal and I believed you. Now I know better." Recalling a time he did have nightmares as a kid, "I remember something with a guy at the carousel. But, what freaked me out then wasn't that guy, but that YOU were scared. I'd never seen that before. I'm pretty sure that if you told me who that guy was now, I'd be more creeped out by him but..."

Booth quickly reassured his son, "You don't need to worry about him. " Epps was currently rotting in hell, but Parker didn't need the specifics.

"I figured Dad. Look I, gotta go or I'll be late for practice. Love you."

"Love you too, bud." Before Parker could disconnect he quickly added, "One more thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for calling. Consider me reminded. And give your mom a hug for me would you?"

"Sure Dad."

After disconnecting, Booth texted a 'Thanks for raising a great kid.' message to Rebecca. He smiled at her 'back at ya' response and headed down to Christine's room. He was amused to find Hank in her trundle as well. Evidently at some point between when he'd kissed them good night and returned from a late night paperwork session at the office, they had decided to have a slumber party. He watched from the doorway, feeling some of the tension of the last week finally leave his mind and body. After a while, he wasn't sure how long, fatigue started to get the better of him. Not ready to leave this peaceful scene yet he made his way to Christine's 'reading place' - a bean bag chair in the corner. As he continued to watch his sleeping children, drowsiness took hold. He knew he should risk waking his wife and return to his own bed, this sleeping spot would play hell with his back. His last conscious thought was "Stay put, Bones can fix you."


	12. Hangovers and Heartaches

On December 27, Booth was waiting outside customs for Parker. He smiled when he saw his eldest then started to frown. He looked a little green around the gills. His suspicions were confirmed when his greeting hug was weakly returned and there was a wince when he clapped the teen on the back. "Hey bud, are you okay?"

"Yeah dad. Just a late night followed by an early wake up call, long bumpy flight and it seemed like nobody in my section had time to take a shower this morning."

"Ouch. Sorry the flight sucked, but I'm glad you're here." They started walking towards the car and Booth asked, "You hungry? We can stop on the way, I'll save you from leftover tofu frittata." He grinned and then frowned when Parker seemed to turn even greener, "You sure you're okay? Hope you're not coming down with anything."

"Nah, I'll be fine. But, food doesn't sound too good, and definitely will pass on tofu."

They arrived at the car, and loaded the bags. Booth observed the teen closely and as the they pulled out of the lot. When they hit the freeway, he remarked casually, "So, flying while hungover, definitely not a good time huh?"

Parker sighed. He should have known his dad would figure it out. There were definite downsides to your father being a top FBI agent. "Did Mom text you?"

"Nope. Powers of observation bud, plus I know you had Colin's Boxing Day party last night, that's why you didn't fly out till today. I take it I'm right?"

"Yeah. So, how much trouble am I in?"

"Depends. Did you do anything exceptionally stupid?"

Parker hesitated, "Define EXCEPTIONALLY stupid."

Booth shrugged, "Driving, fighting, anything illegal." Parker shook his head between each option much to his father's comfort level, but he still looked like he felt guilty about something. Booth had a horrible thought, "You didn't have sex did you?"

"DAD! NO! Not dating anyone remember!" Parker was indignant.

Booth let out a sigh of relief, yes he had known Parker wasn't dating, mainly because in his opinion his son was crushing on his good friend Kayla. "Yeah, I know, but, booze has a way of clouding good judgement."

Parker muttered almost, but not quite, under his breath, "Tell me about it."

Booth heard it. "So, you want to tell me what happened? 'Cause so far I'm thinking that flying trans Atlantic in coach while hungover is punishment enough."

Parker stared out the window for a moment before blurting out, "Kay and I kissed."

"Oh. Wow. I'm guessing from your tone it didn't go as well as it could have? Was this before or after you got drunk?"

"It was a nightmare, and kinda in the middle." At his dad's raised eyebrows he added, "I'd only had one beer, was mid way through the second. We were talking and then I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. And for a little bit, I thought she thought so too, she was kissing me back. And then she stopped, pulled back, looked at me like I'd grown a second head and then she left the room and the party. After that, I had a couple more pints." He sighed and shook his head, "I've totally blown it."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Parker looked at him like HE'D grown a second head and exploded, "Haven't you been listening Dad?" At his father's nod he continued, "IN WHAT UNIVERSE does it work that you kiss your good friend, she walks away, and it ends up okay?"

Booth looked sheepish, "Um, mine."

"WHAT?"

"About 2 years before Bones and I finally got together, I kissed her and asked her to take a chance on us. She said no."

Parker looked at him in disbelief. "Dad, you're not helping by making crap up."

"Dead serious. She turned me down flat."

"Really? What did you do?"

"Well, in the immediate aftermath, I drank more than I should have," he gave his son a knowing look, "but she'd given me the option of staying friends and I decided that having her as a friend was better than nothing. " He shrugged, "so I tried to move on. Dated a bit, without much success. Then the army asked me to go to Afghanistan and I decided the change of scenery might help and besides Bones was going off to Indonesia for a year, so I left.

Parker digested this bit of information, "Wow. I had no idea Dad."

"Well, you were what, ten? I'm pretty sure you were more interested in Pokemon and Transformers than your old man's love life. Not that there was anything to take an interest in at that point."

Parker thought for a moment, trying to recall the timeline in his mind. "Wait, didn't you date Hannah after you came back from Afghanistan?"

Damn, Booth thought. He hadn't expected Parker to remember Hannah, but then again, he shouldn't have been surprised. Hannah WAS the only woman besides Bones that had been introduced to Parker as a girlfriend. "Um, yeah."

"So, what happened?"

"Quick version - Hannah and I didn't work out, I spent some time pissed at the world. When I cooled off, Bones had changed her mind, and we decided to give it a shot. And it all worked out."

Booth stopped the car in front of the Royal Diner at the look on his son's face he said, "I know you said you weren't hungry, but hangovers require eggs and banana pancakes. Trust me. You'll feel better with some food in your stomach." He glanced at his phone and continued, " and you might want to turn your phone on. Your mom was wondering why you hadn't checked in."

Parker pulled his phone out, "Geez. Yeah, that was pretty stupid of me." With that the phone started buzzing with incoming texts. Parker smiled.

"Kayla?"

"Yeah. She says she's not mad, just needs some time to think, wants to talk when I get back to the UK." They headed to Booth's usual table.

"Well that's good, " Booth trailed off when he saw that his son wasn't smiling any longer, "now what's the problem?"

"I dunno. We're good friends. What if try dating and we decide it's not for us? "

Booth shrugged, "If that's what you both want, you go back to being friends. It only gets complicated if one of you wants more than the other."

"Yeah" Parker snorted, "like that happens in real life." He looked at his dad, who had a weird expression on his face, "WHAT? Who? Mom?"

Booth signaled Joanie for a cup of coffee, buying time as she greeted Parker and he gave their order. He supposed that he could cop out and let Parker think he was talking about his mom, but honestly, he knew that without Parker, he and Rebecca probably would not be in each other's lives. "Cam."

"As in Aunt Cam?" At his father's nod, "Wait, you were friends wi..."

Booth held up his hand in warning, "if you say benefits, I'm changing the wifi password and not telling you." At Parker's smirk, he added, "I HATE that phrase."

"Okay, but, really?"

"Yeah."

"So how'd that happen? And when?"

"I met Cam through friends in the summer of '92. Neither one of us was looking for dates- that fall I was going back to the army and she was heading to New York, but we hit it off as friends. Over the next 10 or so years we were very rarely in the same place, but we wrote, and when we were in the same city, we'd have dinner. When I got out of army in '03 we were both in New York. She'd just gotten out of a relationship, your mom and I weren't together at that point. So we dated for a while. Then I got transferred to DC and neither one of us wanted to do the long distance thing and both of us recognized that while we were great friends going beyond that was more a matter of convenience than being THE ONE for each other. And your mom and I wanted to try and work it out. So, we went back to being friends. When Cam moved to DC we tried again, but same result."

Parker mulled that over, "Wow. Does Bones know? Does Arastoo know?"

"Bones definitely knows. As for Arastoo, I assume he does. I've never told him directly, but Cam probably did. And with the way gossip flies around the Jeffersonian, particularly when it comes to personal lives, he might have known before they started dating."

Parker fell silent, processing what he'd learned. Their food arrived and while he'd initially thought he wasn't hungry, after a tentative bite he had to admit that his dad was right about the banana pancakes. After a few bites, Booth asked, "Better?" At Parker's nod he added, "Good. Look, I know that it's legal for you to drink in the UK, but given the family history be careful okay? I'm not going to tell you to never do it again, because God knows that there's been a time or two when I tried to find the answers to my problems in the bottom of a bottle, but the next day the problems were still there and then some."

Parker nodded, "Based on how I felt this morning it's going to be a while before I want to look at a pint again."

Booth smiled, "Good. Addiction is a bitch to deal with, so do whatever you can to avoid going down that road. "

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes. Booth could see that his son was trying to work something out, but couldn't tell if Parker didn't want to talk about it or wasn't sure how to. He gave the teen a little while longer to try and figure it out before he gently asked, "Anything else on your mind?"

"Sort of. But, I'm not sure how, I mean, I don't want to..." his voice trailed off.

"Just say it, Bud."

He took a deep breath and then blurted, "What went wrong with you and Mom? Was it because you were gambling? Because of me? Something else?" Parker made a face of mild disgust, "I mean, she's said that you guys missed your moment, but that seems like, I don't know, an explanation out of a chick flick. "

Booth chewed while he thought before answering. "Missed our moment huh? That's probably accurate. " At Parker's eye roll he elaborated. "When we found out that you were coming, I wanted to get married. I was 30, had almost two years at the FBI under my belt, I was ready to settle down. Your mom was just getting started in her career, and the idea of taking on a husband AND a baby was a little overwhelming. So, she said no. I didn't take it well - looking back on it, I think my folks leaving messed me up more than I knew. I couldn't see that it was marriage in general she didn't want and not me in particular. Then September 11 happened and I was recalled back in the army. I reported for duty a couple of weeks before you were born. I was torn because while I wanted to serve, I'd started to build a life outside the army that I didn't want to leave. During that stint, my unit had a few close calls, and some of the action was pretty ugly. I'd started gambling - pool, cards, sports provided an escape from reality. When I got out two years later, I was kinda messed up, your mom had gotten used to doing it on her own, and it didn't help that my job was in New York. When we finally were at least in the same town, we'd had three years of separate lives. So yeah, I think it's fair to say that we never quite got on the same page at the same time. " He looked at his son and waited for him to make eye contact, "But I hope you understand that even though you may not have been planned, you were ALWAYS wanted."

"I know Dad." It was a rare occasion when Booth welcomed the "doh, how dumb do you think I am?" tone that the teen sometimes affected.

"Ok, good. As long as we're clear on that." Father and son exchanged smiles. Noting that most of the pancakes were gone, "Feeling better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"So, anything else you want to talk about? No pressure. Just sayin that any discussions of love lives will be less embarrassing for both of us if Christine and Bones aren't around to hear."

Parker turned red at the thought of discussing sex with his step mother, or having his little sister ask questions. "Oh God. Definitely. So, back to Kay and I any advice?"

"Figure out what you want. When you get back home, tell her and really LISTEN to what she says. And if you're not in sync, then talk to your old man about it okay?"

"Okay. Thanks Dad. Guess we should roll on home?"

"Only if you're ready. Cause just warning you, headache or no, Hank is pretty excited to see his big brother, and he's still a little shaky on the concept of indoor voice."

"Maybe one more cup of coffee then."


	13. Sidekick

The next morning the family was celebrating a delayed Christmas. Parker was in much better spirits - a good night's sleep and at his dad and Bones' insistence a lot of water had vanquished the last of the hangover symptoms. The family had opened gifts and enjoyed breakfast while watching the snow fall outside. Then there was quiet time as they all enjoyed their presents - Bones in her new books, Parker showing Christine how to use her new camera. All of them occasionally joining Booth and Hank in playing with the toddlers new Legos. After lunch the snow had stopped, so there was shoveling to do and snow angels to be made and snowballs that needed to be thrown. Following that the family had thawed out with hot cocoa and tea, Booth soaked in the tub while Bones and Parker fixed dinner. After dinner a rousing game of Go Fish was played, then the younger kids were tucked into bed. A day where nothing truly memorable had happened and yet Booth knew that the next time life threw him a curve ball he'd be recalling this day to help restore his inner peace.

Bones had returned to reading and was doing her best to ignore the fact that her husband and son had deemed another round of ice cream necessary. Booth was definitely going to have to work on his nutritional habits after the new year she thought. While Booth was dishing up the dessert, Parker was staring at the gift Angela had given his dad that was sitting on the bar. He studied the small figurine - a man in much less damaged outfit as the painting hanging in the man cave - a woman, smaller man, young girl and even younger boy in similar garb. He picked it up to look more carefully at the detail and saw that on the bottom Angela had written "Remember."

Booth saw his son studying the gift. He did really like it, and had already mentally figured out where on his desk it would be in his office. Unlike the comic book cover where it would have been obvious to all FBI agents that the hero was supposed to be him, this was close enough to looking like the cartoon crime fighting superhero family that it would not garner much scrutiny. HE would know what it meant, Aubrey too, but it wouldn't trigger any discussions with others. "Pretty cool huh? Angela told me she'd been playing around with the 3D printer, but I didn't realize she was doing that."

"Yeah, but, what does she mean 'Remember'?"

Booth inwardly sighed. He should have known that Parker would catch that. He saw Bones looking at him in interest and nodding encouragingly. After the fiasco of the case last month when he'd struggled to keep his equilibrium they'd discussed about ways to deal with the inevitable next time. He'd had a long talk with Gordon Gordon who had managed to calm his fears and offer suggestions about how to minimize the impact his PTSD had on the kids. He was more confident on what he should say and do, he just hadn't planned on the need to implement this soon. "Um. Do you remember last month when you called in the middle of the night? The hard case?"

"Yeah." And then Parker flushed, embarrassed, "Geez Dad! You didn't tell Angela about the Batman and Robin thing did you?"

"No! " The denial was heated, but part of him was happy that Parker's biggest concern was being caught in a superhero fantasy.

"Then how'd she know?"

Booth shrugged, "It's Angela. She can be down right spooky at times when it comes to reading minds."

"Booth she doesn't read minds! " Brennan was shaking her head in exasperation, she turned to her son, "For reasons that I don't fully understand, Angela has always had somewhat misguided ideas about your dad. First he was a knight in standard issue FBI body armor..." Parker snickered as it was Booth's turn to be embarrassed. Brennan continued on as if she hadn't heard, "Now as evidenced by both the comic book" at Booth's huff she corrected, "excuse me GRAPHIC NOVEL painting and this, she's decided he's a super hero." She turned back to Parker, "Angela is well aware of my affinity for Wonder Woman, so this gift is a somewhat logical combination of Angela's active imagination and her personal knowledge as my best friend."

Parker saw his dad shaking his head about to argue and decided that if he wanted an answer to his question he needed to distract now. "The case last month?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, as you kinda figured out, it was a bad one. I was having trouble sleeping, wasn't eating, that sort of thing. Angela and everyone else was worried about me. After you called and reminded me about watching you sleep, I went in and watched Hank and Christine. Something clicked, I was finally able to let it go. Angela and Hodgins and the kids came over for Sunday dinner the next day, she noticed that I was doing better and asked what happened. I told her that I'd been reminded that my family had my back. So, this is her way of telling me to not take so damn long to figure it out next time."

"Oh." Parker thought about it, "next time?"

"Parker, the symptoms that your father experiences are consistent with PTSD, which has no cure. It is likely that at some point he will have another episode."

Parker looked at his father for confirmation and got a slight nod. "Because of your job?"

Booth gave a wry grin. "Some of it, but reality is, even if I was an accountant or insurance salesman, there would probably be some triggers that would cause symptoms. Maybe not as often, or as intense, but it would still be there." Booth caught the concern on his eldest face, "Look Parker, it's not fun, but, you don't need to worry about this. I'm okay. "

Parker looked unconvinced.

"I am." Booth insisted, and Brennan nodded in agreement.

"I believe you." Parker's voice lacked conviction.

"But?"

"Well, you said I helped right?"

"Yeah, you did bud." He could see that Parker didn't seem to be relieved by that statement. "What's wrong?" Booth felt his anxiety rising. According to Gordon Gordon, talking about this stuff was supposed to make it easier for his kids.

Parker hesitated, "What if next time, I don't say the right thing?"

Booth exhaled, trying to find the words. Brennan came over and placed her hand on his back, offering silent support. "Parker. It doesn't work that way. You don't cause the problems, you can't fix them. Only I can. All you, or Bones, " he paused and smiled up at his wife, "or anybody else that I love can do is just be there for me and be patient while I work through it. As much as I wish you could just say some magic words, you can't. Okay? You just have to be you."

"Okay, but I don't see how that helps dad."

"Trust me, it does. It always has. " Booth said softly. Brennan patted his hand and then headed down the hallway. Parker studied his ice cream, trying to understand. He knew his dad wasn't lying to him but he still didn't quite believe it.

Bones returned with a battered manila envelope which she handed to Booth. "I believe this evidence might help."

Booth smiled, she was right. He opened the envelope and pulled out a small stack of photos. He handed the top one to his son.

Parker studied the old photo, it wasn't one he'd seen before. A baby, wrapped in a blue blanket, staring up at the man holding him, with the dazed unfocused expression of a newborn. The man's face wasn't visible - the picture had been taken from slightly behind and to the side of him. But he was obviously army - cammo pants, brown hair in a military cut. On closer inspection Parker could make out a kanji character on the inside of the wrist holding the baby's head. "How old was I in this?" he asked.

"About 2 hours. This was the first time I held you." Booth smiled at the memory.

Parker frowned at the condition of the photo - the corners were missing, a yellowed piece of tape was holding the photo together, there were fold marks and a couple water stains. "Why is it so beat up?"

"Ten days later I was on a flight to Afghanistan. For the next year, whenever I was on base, that photo was in my BDUs. When I was sent off for a mission, it stayed behind." Booth gave a brief shake of his head, "At least most times."

"When didn't it?" Parker asked softly

"We had a last minute call out. Just had enough time to grab our gear and go, I forgot to leave this behind. It was supposed to be just a routine patrol, but, there was bad intel. We got pinned down by the Taliban. Took 3 days for reinforcements to arrive to get us out." Parker looked up from the photo, the words triggering the memory of a story Wendell had told at the FBI last year - fifteen guys went in, three survived. Based on his dad's expression, Parker didn't need verbal confirmation that it was the same mission. He waited, partly because he didn't know what to say, and partly because he wasn't sure if his dad was finished. "They were low on ammo and figured that they had the tactical advantage and worst case scenario they could starve us out. So, there was downtime between sieges. When it was quiet I'd pull the picture out. Say a prayer, hope that this wasn't the only time I'd get to hold you. " He was now speaking so quietly Parker had to strain to hear him, "it would keep me calm, focused."

He handed the next photo to Parker. Another one he hadn't seen before. It was the two of them, he was older, but obviously still in diapers. He was sprawled face down on his fathers chest under a protective arm, both of them sacked out on what he recognized as Pops old sofa. A Christmas tree in the background.

"Our first Christmas together?" This photo also showed some wear and tear, but not quite as bad as the first one.

"Yep., about 3 weeks after the bad patrol. This one got me through the rest of my tour, till I got out and went to New York. " Booth gave a half smile, "Luckily it was an easier time." Parker was sure that easier still had some pretty brutal moments, so he didn't press for details.

Parker glanced at the next photo. This one he knew - he had a copy in his room, and to his chagrin he knew it was in his dad's office at the Hoover. There was also a copy in the house - it was a black and white taken when he was about seven by a photography student wandering the park. His dad was showing him the mechanics of throwing a spiral. It would be a few more years before his hand was big enough to actually be able to throw a good one. He also recognized the next one in his dad's hand - a picture of the "squint squad" and Ms. Julian all dressed up. Brennan smiled, "That was for the the party the Egyptian government threw at the Jeffersonian for Anok." Both pictures had a hole in the top center, like they'd been hung up on a bulletin board with a thumb tack. Parker asked, "Where were these hung up?"

"Afghanistan - the seven months that I went over to train troops. It hung in my room."

That left his dad holding two photos. Both of which had obviously been handled a lot, and one of the edges was tattered, like it had been shoved in a not quite big enough book. The first had Bones holding Christine on her lap. The second was taken at the wedding. Parker remember it well. They were both wearing their tuxes, he was standing on a bench, trying to straighten out his dad's bow tie. He was dead serious, trying to live up to his status as best man. His dad was grinning from ear to ear. Parker hadn't seen this picture before, which was a little bit of surprise given the happy time it represented. He thought a bit, and then asked quietly, "Prison?"

Booth nodded. It then made sense that the photos weren't displayed. Even though it had been three years that trauma was still too fresh. For all of them. He had been old enough at the time to be angry that anyone would believe the charges and scared for his dad - he knew that law enforcement didn't fare particularly well in jail. They'd never talked about it - Parker didn't want to know if the reality was worse than his imagination. He remembered the first video talk when his dad had been released - the cuts and bruises that were brushed off as nothing major, the wincing that wasn't quite disguised, the shadows under the eyes made more prominent by the overall pallor in complexion. And he knew that any discussion would be painful for his dad since the release from jail was followed so quickly by Dr. Sweets' death.

Brennan handed him Booth's FBI badge, "Look behind the credential."

Parker pulled out the credential to reveal the photo his dad took last spring break. Bones, and the three Booth kids laughing in the sprinklers. He smiled at the memory. He then reached over and picked up the baby photo again.

Booth remarked softly, "You've been helping me out since the day you were born. Now do you believe me?"

Parker gave a short laugh. "I guess so." He looked at the photo one more time. "Any chance I get a copy of this one?"

Brennan smiled, "I think Angela can probably do some restoration of it."

"Just a copy is okay, she doesn't need to pretty it up."

At that, Booth reached over and gave Parker a one armed hug and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Yeah, we can make that happen."

A/N: Angela's painting is described in Chapter 2 of Agent in the X-rays.


End file.
